


Seeing and Feeling Blue

by goresmores



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean lance, Angst, Bodyguard AU, Childhood Trauma, Fantasy Shower Sex, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Frottage, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Parent Death, Sharing a Bed, Use of Pheromones, human shiro, little bit of side heith, slowburn, surprise its actually a flower & coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-11 13:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goresmores/pseuds/goresmores
Summary: Following the destruction of Altea, prince Lance and his bodyguard Shiro move to Earth to forge a new life for themselves. It isn't easy, though. They know nothing about Earth, they've both suffered great losses in their life and recovery is hard. Coping is ballgame all its own.But Shiro's there to remind Lance that he isn't alone. Even if they've lost everything else, at least they've got each other. It's nothing like it was before, and it never will be, but it could be something entirely new and maybe even just as great in its own way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yA BOY IS BACK AND HES HERE TO SLAM DUNK SOME SHANCE
> 
> sO a few things...
> 
> • i used [THIS](http://vodka-aunt-coran.tumblr.com/post/156250029567/vodka-aunt-coran-vodka-aunt-coran) post as a reference for altean time  
> • my time stamps are PROBABLY kinda wonky. i tried my best and theyre a little bit necessary in my head, but i d k  
> • chapters will come out once a week on Wednesday, with 2 chapters to start!  
> • ages: shiro (19), lance (17), katie (16), keith (17) and matt (18)  
> • beta'd by my beautiful gf [@shirosprincess](https://twitter.com/shirosprincess) on twitter!

**Quintant 1**

White hair fell wet with rain in front of the prince’s face.

Lance’s head was down, royal garments soaked around him. He gripped the cloth so tight that his knuckles whitened.

Shiro had never seen him so sad.

Usually, his majesty was alight with energy, all smiles and jokes— constantly flirting with Shiro, even though he really shouldn’t and _knew_ Shiro, as his guard, was not allowed to reciprocate. The flirting was actually kind of ridiculous, and while part of Shiro wanted to flip Lance’s garments over his head and give him a noogie (another thing he wasn’t allowed to do), part of him appreciated it. After all— he liked Lance back. His majesty was hyperactive, inappropriate and basically sort of obnoxious, but he was also incredibly caring and sweet. For all the rules he broke, he made up for it by being an incredible ruler when it really mattered. So to see him with his head down, back against a tree, on _planet Earth_... Well, it hurt.

“Lance…” Shiro was breathing heavy from the frantic search to find him, given that Lance had started crying and ran out of the Holt family house and into the pouring rain. All he got in response to his name was Lance turning his head away.

Raindrops hit the leaves of the trees, the grass below and plinked off of Shiro’s robotic arm. It was just the sort of dramatic ambiance to set the scene— that odd quiet that made it feel like nothing else in the world could make a sound but them and the rain.

“Lance, we’re worried about you.”

From behind, Shiro could see Lance tense just before his form drooped, shoulders beginning to shake.

Shiro’s stomach plummeted.

He took a step forward.

Lance’s hand shot out and touched the grass. It was like a bar. “Don’t!” He yelled out the commandment, his voice rough like his throat was raw from the pure emotion. And then, tiny, like he was holding back the pain. “I— please… just go back.” 

He understood. Shiro didn’t persist.

Turning, he made his way back to the house. It was day 1 of their extended stay on planet Earth. From what Shiro could gleam, it’d been about three quintants since their home, Altea, had been destroyed by the Galra.

Lance needed time.

Shiro kicked off his wet boots on the porch and walked in.

“Shiro?!” Katie and Matt shot forward.

“Where’s Lance?” Matt peeked behind him, probably expecting the prince to be there.

“He’ll come back in awhile. He just… needs some time alone.” Shiro didn’t know what to do with himself, trapped in the doorway by the Holt siblings, so he closed the door, adding, “He’s alright, though. Just sitting by a tree.”

“But it’s _raining,_ ” Katie said.

Shiro studied her face. “It is,” he nodded, “but he’ll be fine.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder and politely pushed through the gap between them.

He was soaking wet and dripping small puddles onto the floor, but Shiro really wanted to get to his room

He stopped by the restroom and grabbed a towel, drying his clothes a bit before he left for his room, where, once inside, he stripped, dried himself off (especially his robotic arm), before redressing.

For now, there was nothing to protect Lance from. No subjects, no family enemies, no hired assassins or bounty hunters.

Only grief. 

And Shiro knew there was no protecting someone from grief. Not really, anyway.

  


* * *

  


Later, Shiro was woken up by Keith.

“Shiro, it’s time for dinner.” He gave Shiro a shake and the other teen woke up with a stretch.

He blinked open his eyes. “Mmm, thanks.” He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Hey, uhm, is the pri— Lance. Is Lance at dinner?”

Keith shook his head. “Katie said he wouldn’t come out and our mom gave it a try too. He says he doesn’t want to eat.” He paused, and then added, “Sorry.”

 _Our mom._

Keith has been introduced to Shiro and Lance as the Holts’ son. However, it was immediately obvious that he was in no way blood related to either of the parents, because the Holts were white. They had strawberry blond hair with amber eyes, with the exception of Samuel, whose hair had gone gray with age. Keith was clearly Asian, with dark black hair and navy blue eyes.

The middle child.

“It’s… fine. Thanks anyway.”

He nodded this time and turned, “I’ll let you get ready.” And then he left.

Alone, Shiro finger-brushed his bangs and headed towards the restroom to wash his hands.

On the way, he debated whether or not to knock on Lance’s door, but in the end, decided against it.

He enjoyed dinner with the Holts, their familial banter and inclusion of Shiro in their conversation comforting now that everything felt off and unfamiliar. Dinner was turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans and goodness knows what else— those were the only names he could retain before dinner was over.

When things were starting to die down, Shiro set his fork on his plate. “I want to apologize on behalf of Lance. I’m sorry that he wasn’t here to enjoy dinner with us, but your hospitality is more appreciated than we could ever make known.”

Samuel Holy reached over and pat his arm. “No need, son. We can’t imagine what he must be feeling. He’s lost almost everything, so I don’t blame him for not feeling up to dinner with everyone— and neither does my family, right?” He looked over at them.

“Right!”

“Yeah.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Holt, Colleen, smiled. “You’ll be here awhile. He can have as much time as he needs to feel better and join in. It won’t help to make him feel guilty for grieving when it’s appropriate.”

Shiro smiled, grateful for their understanding. “Thank you, all of you.”

But Keith was silent.

  


* * *

  


After dinner, Shiro brought a plate with him to Lance’s room and knocked on the door. “Lance, it’s Shiro.”

Silence. No rustling, no reply.

“Lance, please. You need to eat.”

Still, nothing.

“Okay. I’ll just leave it outside your door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my twitter is [@dogmemes420](https://twitter.com/dogmemes420), if you're interested! i tweet abt voltron, memes n all kindsa shit


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finally comes out. Things are still rocky.

**Quintant 6**

For a good spicolian movement, Lance stayed holed up in his room. At first he didn’t eat, but that changed quickly enough. Showering, however, Shiro wasn’t sure about.

It wasn’t until the prince finally came out that Shiro learned the state of the prince’s hygiene: _horrendous._

For someone who had once valued skin care, how his hair looked and more, he’d really let himself go.

“Shiro? I—” Shiro was smacked by a puff of bad breath and he had to resist the urge to fan it away with his hand. “Okay there, Lance. Hold that thought.” 

He took the prince by the hand and led him into the restroom. In a cup by the sink was a blue toothbrush (provided by the Holts, as most everything was), which Shiro handed him. “This is called a toothbrush. Run it under the water.” He turned on the faucet and Lance, confused, shoved it under the stream.

“Uh?”

Shiro turned off the water and reached for the toothpaste next. “Toothpaste.” He squirted some onto Lance’s toothbrush.

“Uh huh…”

“And then you brush your teeth.”

Lance stared at him blankly.

“Right. Of course. Like this.” Shiro prepared his own toothbrush and demonstrated how to brush his teeth for Lance. Finally, he spit into the sink and washed off the brush, cupping water into his hands to rinse his mouth out with. “See? It’s easy.”

Lance looked unsure as he lifted his to his mouth.

“Do you want help?” The guard moved his hand toward Lance’s.

“No!” The prince shoved his in his mouth, furiously brushing just as Shiro has showed him, save for the glare.

He worked the bristles over his teeth, circular motion in the front as Shiro had, and then shifted it back to brush his molars. Back home they wouldn’t have had to do this, but oh well… Life in a new place.

Besides, he was so _cute,_ pouting while he did it, with his shoulders slumped forward. He was smelly, his hair and face were greasy and he had bags under his eyes, which made standing next to him a bit difficult, but this was better. Lance was out again, acting like his old self, and Shiro couldn’t be happier (B.O and all).

Lance spit into the sink, cleaned up his toothbrush and mouth and then turned to Shiro. “What now? I seriously stink.” He sniffed his armpit and gagged.

Since they hadn’t been able to take Lance shopping for other clothes (y’know, the whole depressed isolating himself thing), they needed to wash what he had, which, unfortunately for Lance, meant having to strip and stand naked in the bathroom while Shiro got him a towel, an oversized shirt and sweatpants to borrow. Lance blushed upon receiving the bundle of borrowed clothing, but Shiro was busy thinking that maybe his narrow hips would finally come in handy for something other than “looking like a sassy, beefcake sex god” (one of Lance’s previous flirts, when roughly translated). Apparently Lance thought Shiro was a sex god, or at least looked like one. Weird, considering Shiro had never put too much thought into sex, and was— by extension— far from a sex god, but whatever. Man’s greatest downfall is trying to apply something sensical like logic to someone as nonsensical as Lance.

They threw his clothes in with a load of Mrs. Holt’s laundry and Shiro went on to show Lance how to work the shower.

It was awkward, to say the least. He was trying to show Lance the hot and cold knobs and how to turn on the showerhead, but his speech was choppy and weird, no doubt, because all he could really think about was the fact that naked Lance was inches away from him, trying to see what he was doing.

And worse yet, on the way out, he tried to avoid brushing up against Lance, which required looking between them to actually understand the distance, but _fuck_ — was _that_ a bad idea. Shiro got an eyeful, first, of Lance’s face. Still pre-shower, his hair was scraggly and flat against his head, sticking up in some places, and his face shone with the built up oils from his skin. His eyes didn’t seem as bright as usual, the flecks of life and happiness that danced in his irises gone, leaving a dull blue color behind. But lower… lower meant his chest, with delicate looking caramel-colored collar bones, his abs, with their scrawny sort of muscular look to them and darker, hardened nipples from the temperature in the bathroom. Shiro’s real concern, though, was past his smooth stomach and white happy trail to… well… he looked away, face burning. He wasn’t going to accidentally brush against him. The distance was wide enough. 

Shiro could do a lot of things, but looking at his prince’s dick was not one of them.

He closed the door to the restroom behind him just as the water in the shower started up again, and he leaned against it, sucking in a breath, holding it, and then releasing. His heart was pounding in his ears and his stomach felt like someone had started a fire in it.

This would never have happened on Altea.

Shiro felt like an ass.

Lance had been hit the hardest out of the two of them when it came to the destruction of their home, and here all Shiro could really think about was Lance, Lance, _Lance._

Altea was where he had been born and raised— Altean royalty with a loving family and a bright future as the king of Altea. He was actually Altean, and that planet was the world to him, quite literally. But Shiro… Shiro was just a human kid they’d saved from a Galran prison when he was eleven. He’d been born and raised with the Galra. His only saving grace was that they realized he wouldn’t hurt anybody and said, “Here kid, why don’t you use those fighting skills to prove your worth”. He was positioned, first, as a regular castle sentry, but Lance took a liking to him and a feeb later, he was Lance’s personal guard.

He was grateful to the Alteans for saving his life, because he’d tried to escape before, but to no avail. His lasting reminders of this were the robotic arm and the scar across his nose, but he was just a guard. The only thing other than Lance that mattered to him was safety, and Earth was safe, for the most part. No Galra, at least.

He didn't really have friends. His only family, a mom and a dad, had died on that prison ship when he was 9 after the soldiers on board realized his parents were teaching him to resist the brainwashing.

Shiro would not serve under Zarkon.

So yeah, they saved his life, but his position meant his life revolved around Lance. He’d spent vargas with and around the prince, and Shiro would die for him. It was in the job description.

Death was, but not Heart.

Heart was asking him if this pining was okay now that he wasn’t officially stationed by anyone to protect the prince. He would anyways— always would, no matter what, but it wasn’t a position assigned to him anymore. Just as Lance wasn’t expecting to marry a princess and become the next king, Shiro wasn’t expected to keep protecting him. He could figure out how Earth works and go off into the world on his own. He could forge a new life for himself, if he wanted.

But he _didn’t_

All he wanted was for Lance’s flirting to be serious, and more than just some way to pass the time. He flirted with so many people so often that it was hard to tell if it was Lance having feelings for him or just being himself.

Pining, maybe, was okay, he decided. It wasn’t a big deal if he had feelings for Lance as long as he didn’t act on them and overstep his bounds as an acting guard. Yeah. Yeah, that was good.

_He can’t break your heart if you act like it was never part of the job to begin with._  


* * *

  
A varga— er, hour— later, Shiro had a damp Lance standing in his doorway, looking cutely drowned in Shiro’s oversized shirt. His face was red and he was gripping the hem of the shirt with his hand.

“I’m cold.”

“You’re still pretty wet.” Shiro could see a droplet fall from Lance’s hair onto his chest. “C’mere.”

Shiro took the towel from Lance’s hand and sat him down on the bed. He threw it over Lance’s head and started to dry his hair with it.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“Nah, it’s just weird.”

Shiro made a considerate noise and pulled the towel away, exposing Lance’s now poofy-damp hair.

He looked up at Shiro with a cute little ‘o’ shaped mouth and Shiro wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him so, so bad. The forehead, the cheek— anywhere, as long as it meant Shiro’s lips came in contact with Lance and Lance could finally understand how he felt.

But again. He couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that, no matter how much he wanted to.

Shiro tossed the towel over Lance’s head again, smiling at the “Hey!” as he fell onto the bed beside him. 

Lance pulled the towel off of his head and set it aside. “Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for staying in my room for the past spicolian movement… I just… I didn’t want the Holts or… or even _you_ to see me cry. I miss home. I miss my family and I don’t know what to do.” Lance turned himself around on the mattress to face Shiro. “To be honest I… I hate it here. They’ve done a lot in letting us stay and helping us adjust to life on Earth, but I hate it here.”

Shiro sat up. “Hey… it’s alright. I apologized to the Holts the first night and they understand that you’re going through a lot. There isn’t really much you can do, Lance… You just need time to let the pain dull.” He put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, a thousand thoughts racing through his head at once. But his focus zeroed in on one when Lance put his hand on Shiro’s. “I was talking to Samuel the other uh… day? That’s what they call quintants here— and he told me a story he’d heard from somewhere. It basically goes like this:

“A woman’s husband died. At first it felt like she was carrying a brick in her hands and it was always in the way. She’d go to pick up the phone and have to switch the brick to the other hand. It felt like she could never do two things at once because the brick was always there, a heavy reminder that made it impossible to do the things she needed and wanted to do… but eventually, she was able to put the brick in her pocket. 

“There, the weight of the brick unbalanced her, and she still had some trouble focusing because she was still aware of it, but with time, she got used to the weight. It wouldn’t unbalance her and it wasn’t in her way. The brick never went away, but she learned to cope with its existence in her life… and, well… That’s what Mr. Holt said you needed to do. You just need time to adjust to the weight of your own brick. Right now it’s in your hand,” Shiro lifted his hand and locked his fingers with Lance’s, “But one day, you’ll be able to move it to your pocket and better adjust.”

Tears welled up in Lance’s eyes.

Mild panic seeped into Shiro’s chest and stomach at the sight, which only gained confusion when Lance threw his free arm around Shiro’s body and _nuzzled_ into his neck. His other hand was still holding Lance’s, which was a little bit weird, but Shiro let his free hand rest on Lance’s back, rubbing soothing circles into it.

“Thank you. Thank you for telling me that.” Hot tears fell onto Shiro’s neck and slid down his back.

“You needed to hear it. I hope it helps.”

Eventually, Lance removed his hand from Shiro’s and wrapped both arms around him, pulling Shiro tight against himself. It was quiet between them for a long time.

“You’re comfortable.”

Shiro felt his face flush. “Th-thank you?”

Lance pulled away. “Ha, you stuttered.”

“Oh shut up!” Shiro laughed as he playfully hit Lance in the face with a pillow.

Lance tried to grab for it, shouting, “Mean!” 

“You started it!” Shiro held the pillow out of reach and pushed Lance back by the face.

“Shiro! You’re acting like a kid!”

“Says the one who called me ‘mean’ like a little baby.” Shiro smacked him again.

Lance reached out to retaliate and Shiro, in some arguable stroke of brilliance, thought it would be a good idea to lick him.

“EW! What are you?! Two feebs old?!”

“If I’m two feebs old then you’re probably only a dobosh at best.”

At that, Lance kicked and nailed Shiro right in the armpit where his toenail scratched at Shiro’s armpit hairs.

“Okay, okay! You win! I’ll stop hitting you!” 

The fighting stopped and Lance rolled off to the left side of Shiro while he tried to make sure his armpit wasn’t bleeding or something. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. You need to clip your toenails though, that’s unholy.”

“They’re _pretty_!”

“Pretty _dangerous._ ” Shiro dug in his nightstand for his clippers and tossed them to Lance. “Clip ‘em.”

The next few minutes were silence, aside from the sound of the ventilation working to keep the air cool, _and_ the sound of Lance’s toenails being clipped, of course.

“Done!” He wiggled his toes for Shiro to see.

Cute. Cute little toes. But Shiro didn’t say so; only nodded and took the clippers back while Lance cleaned up the nails.

And _then_ they were ready to lay down.

Shiro was tempted to hold his hand, but Lance had other ideas, throwing his arm across Shiro’s chest and resting it there.

“Really?”

“You’re warm.”

“Are you cold?”

“Kinda.”

“Then here.” Shiro sat up to pull the duvet over them and Lance snuggled into the bed. That begged the question, though. “Hey, are you gonna stay in here?”

“You mean like, sleep in here with you?”

“Yeah.”

Lance shifted uncomfortably, looking away. “I don’t know… I guess I-I hoped I could? I don’t want to be alone anymore. It’s nice having a room to myself when I need or want it, but…”

Shiro rolled over. “It’s okay. I get it. You can sleep in here whenever you need to.”

Lance’s eyes widened and he looked like he might cry again. “Thanks.”

“Mmm. You can nap until dinner, if you need to.”

“I do…”

Shiro flicked off the lamp beside the bed and closed his eyes.  


* * *

  
That night, Lance had his first at-the-table dinner with the Holt family.

He got along with them spectacularly— complementing Mrs. Holt’s cooking, promising he’d let Katie kick his ass at Mario Kart (something Shiro had already experienced— she drops you right into Rainbow Road, comes in first and then chooses an easier course), got into a small fight with Keith and told Mr. Holt how much he loved the brick story. 

They pretty much all liked him, maybe minus Keith— he didn’t think it was serious, since it was a fight over peas, but still. It was nice to see. It gave Shiro hope that this would work out.

At least until, “So, Lance, Shiro, pardon my asking, but how long do you think it might take you to adjust to life on Earth? There’s certainly no rush, but I’m sure you don’t want to spend the rest of your lives living here, especially after these little birds fly the coop.” He laughed when Katie and Matt groaned at being called ‘little birds’.

“A few…” Shiro struggled to remember the word, “Months?” 

Mr. Holt considered this. “Sounds about right, I suppose! We don’t have to teach you everything, just the basics before you’re able to take care of yourselves out there. _And_ you’re welcome to ask for help whenever you need it after we get you both phones to keep in contact with.” Mrs. Holt got up to take the dirty dishes from everyone, meaning Katie, Matt and Keith left the table to do their own things. “And I assume you two are going to be living together after you leave, right?”

“Honey!” Mrs. Holt’s voice was stern.

“Right, right, sorry. Well, I guess that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get to it. You two run along and get some sleep, dinner ran a bit later than we were expecting, so it’s nearly ten o’clock.”

Shiro was curious about what Samuel had meant with his assumption that they’d live together, because that seemed like the most obvious course of action for them. Shiro was still protecting Lance. He hadn’t given up his duty, and he wouldn’t… not unless that’s what Lance wanted.

They wished the parents goodnight and headed off to Shiro’s room, since Lance was going to be sleeping with him, but Lance looked bothered.

“Lance?”

He didn’t respond.

“Lance.” Shiro touched his shoulder.

Lance looked like he nearly jumped out of his skin when he did, though. “Shiro?!”

“Are you okay? You look like something’s bothering you.”

“Wha— me? Bothered? Nah, I’m fine. Perfectly fine. A-okay, even. I’m doing great.”

So he was definitely bothered, then. 

“You can talk to me, y’know. I’m not going to force you, but I’m here if you need me.”

Lance nodded in response, but he didn’t look any better than before. “Thanks, Shiro. But uh… goodnight. We should go to bed.” 

Only, Lance wasn’t headed to Shiro’s room, he was headed to his own.

Shiro didn’t know what to say.

He said nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go get him, Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im honestly so excited to be updating this?? welcome back to trash town, motherfuckers

**Quintant 8**

After that, Lance started avoiding him, which completely contradicted him not wanting to be alone. But then… he wasn’t. He was spending more time with Matt, Katie and Keith.

Katie finally got her chance to kick Lance’s ass (which of course, she did. Badly. It was brutal.)

Keith ragequit after Lance placed higher than him in a race and wouldn’t quit gloating about it. ‘You’ve lived here for years, Keith, and you lost to me? Laaaame!’ (He picked up a little too much from Katie.)

It was a little hard to deal with, because Shiro was trying to give Lance space to calm down or feel better or _something,_ which meant Shiro was left to be a bystander the majority of the time. Sometimes Keith would stand or sit with him. He wouldn't say much, but it meant a lot, and Shiro thanked him for it.

Lance looked like he was having fun when he was distracted, but Shiro caught him in the halls sometimes and his face would be full of worry, or sadness, and he looked really out of it.

Shiro had to deal with a solid day of it, and by day two he was getting desperate.

What’s more, Mr. Holt had started teaching them more Earth stuff to help them, starting with cell phones.

Lance wasn’t really getting it as well as Shiro was and Shiro offered to help him, but Lance stubbornly refused— actually, more than that, he _snapped_ at Shiro for offering.

“It’s fine! I got this. I can do it by myself, or you can let _Mr. Holt_ do his job right now. You don’t have to keep babying me and taking care of me, Shiro.”

He was right, of course. But it hurt to hear.

Lance was completely capable of taking care of himself, despite his shortcomings as far as Earth was concerned. Shiro just found a sense of purpose by helping him. There wasn’t really much to do right now, so drying his hair, teaching him how to brush his teeth the way they do on Earth, showing him how to work the shower… _He_ didn’t think of it as babying Lance, but apparently Lance did. But if Shiro was useless as a guard now, someone Lance wanted to avoid and someone he didn’t want babying him, he had to respect that. Feelings for him be damned, Shiro wasn’t wanted anymore.

It looked like Samuel’s assumption was wrong, then.

They wouldn’t be moving in together.

The rest of the lesson was taken in but Shiro wasn’t as interested as before. Now he just felt like he wanted to sleep and maybe die or something. Wanting to die wasn’t uncommon when he still had nightmares from his time being raised in the Galran prison, but this felt different; less like wanting actual death and more like a social death that had already happened.

It wasn’t panic, this time. It was rejection, and it hurt his heart in a way nothing else in his life ever had. It wasn’t the worst feeling ever, but it certainly hurt.

When it was over, Lance stood and started back towards his room.

“Uh… Lance?”

Lance didn’t turn around, but he stopped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was babying you. You’re almost an adult and you’re capable of taking care of yourself. I guess I went beyond my job description, and I apologize.”

Lance’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, shaking. “Apology accepted. Don’t worry about it.” He walked away, stiff and hunched over.

“Shiro?”

He turned to the voice, looking at Mr. Holt with worried eyes.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Shiro gave him a quizzical look.

“It means are you two having a fight?”

“Oh! I guess? I just don’t know what happened. He’s been avoiding me and then he snapped at me and… He won’t talk to me about it.”

“Have you done anything different from usual? Kissing him less, less affectionate sayings… Anything like that?”

Shiro flushed. “I— no, we’re not— he’s—”

Then it was ol’ Sam’s turn to blush. “Oh! I’m sorry for assuming—”

“Well, I mean… I like him, but I don’t know if _he_ — so…”

“Right, right, of course. I’m sorry, son. I don’t know what to say, then… but if you don’t talk, nothing that needs to be said will get said. Maybe you should tell him that.”

Shiro looked at the older man. “I think I will.” He turned to leave but turned back, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Go get him.”  


* * *

  
Shiro did, in fact, go get him.

He made his way through the familiar hallways and found himself at Lance’s bedroom door.

He knocked.

“Yes?”

“Lance?”

There was no response.

He did this a lot.

“Look… I don’t know if it’s still about the babying you thing or if it’s something else but I don’t… like the way things have been these past two days. We need to talk. I know it might not be easy or fun, but it’s important. I don’t want to lose you, Lance. It feels like you’re slipping away. If you want to separate after we leave here, I’ll respect that, but I want you to at least say to my face that it’s what you want.” Shiro paused to see if Lance would respond. “... Goodnight, Lance.”

He turned to go just as the door opened behind him.

“Wait, I— oh.” Lance was in the doorway, the left side of his shirt slipping from his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you either… I don’t know, I just… I thought after we left here you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore, y’know? You don’t have to put your life on the line for my safety anymore— you can do whatever you want and it doesn’t have to involve me. I don’t get why you’d wanna stick around anyway, I’m just…” He looked down and fiddled with his fingers, “...me. All I’ve ever done is flirt and cause problems for you. So I guess I thought, ‘hey if I push him away first, he can’t push me away later— eat my ass, Shiro’ which is really dumb but I don’t want you to go, I’m afraid of Earth and I’m afraid of being alone and worst of all, I’m afraid of being alone on Earth. You really are all I have left and it’s not even just about that, I mean, I care about you. We’ve been together for feebs… You’re like… a best friend.” Lance looked up at him. “Why would I want to lose my best friend?”

For once, Shiro was the one who was going to cry.

Here he thought he was useless, unimportant if he wasn’t worth the job he was given, but it was more than that.

A best friend.

A tear slipped down his cheek and Shiro wrapped him arms around Lance, pulling the shorter teen to him. “I love you, Lance.”

Lance returned the hug and whispered, “I love you too, Shiro.”

He loved Lance and Lance loved him back.

It wasn’t romantic, but it didn’t have to be romantic for it to mean the world to Shiro when he heard it.

 

Lance slept in his bed that night and for once in his life, Shiro felt at home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is wild in bed [insert suggestively winky cat face here]

**Quintant 13**

Sharing a bed with Lance was… interesting.

Shiro found out pretty quickly he slept like a hurricane— kicked, rolled over a lot, sometimes not-so lightly snored and on more than one occasion, slapped Shiro in the face.

All of this happened within the first few nights, mind you. And it wasn’t even a week in before Lance accidentally rolled out of bed— landing with a thump— and farted loudly. Apparently it woke him up, because he picked himself up off the floor, half-asleep and said, “Jeeze Shiro, at least take it outside,” and then crawled back under the covers, asleep in an instant.

Still, he was _cute._

But then, Lance was cute when he did most things, so it wasn’t too surprising. 

Shiro probably watched Lance too much. (Chalk that up to keeping an eye on him being part of his job, or is that just Shiro being weird again? God, who even knows at this point.)

But well, point was, he had a bit of a bad habit when it came to watching Lance sleep (if that much wasn't obvious already). Mostly because sleep wasn’t easy for himself— insomnia had been a thing for years now, but also because his curiosity was like an itch that needed to be scratched. 

Despite how wild he was, Lance was gorgeous— always was, but even when he slept? That just wasn’t fair. 

Honestly, no one had ever fallen out of bed, farted, and blamed it on Shiro while looking _so_ good doing it. 

Shiro almost expected him to drool, but that only happened when Lance was sleeping like a baby, and that didn’t happen often… He was plagued by his own nightmares. Sometimes he was asleep, but his face was twisted up and he looked like he wanted to cry, and one time he even woke up with tears streaming down his face. He was gorgeous, but that didn’t mean sleeping was pretty.

Shiro had been there for him, though, holding him close and wiping the tears away and trying as best he could, but there was honestly so little he could do to help. He couldn’t exactly reassure him he was safe now, because that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that his family wasn’t. His _home_ wasn’t.

Sometimes Shiro was afraid Lance wished _he_ wasn’t safe— like he wished he’d gone down with Altea and everyone else. After all, Shiro wished he’d been killed with his parents before, so why wouldn’t Lance want the same for himself? He hadn't said anything for Shiro to have any real fears about it, but that didn't mean he couldn't be thinking about it.

Shiro could relate to the night terrors— to the wishing he were dead with his parents— especially after he’d spent years waking up screaming in the middle of the night, vividly reimagining his parents’ death in his dreams… He’d been forced to watch. It wasn’t a bloodbath— just a permanent reminder for Shiro about what happens to people who defy Emperor Zarkon.

At the time, his parents had been his home.

And when they were gone, he was left with nothing.

Okay, no— Shiro couldn’t think about this. It left him with an empty feeling that hurt and was hard to get rid of.

He pulled his eyes away from Lance’s sleeping form and started reading again.

What mattered now was that they were on Earth, and to pass the time until he felt tired, Shiro took to reading in bed. Although, living on a prison ship, and then Altea, meant English was hard to take, but Katie’s old _Geronimo Stilton_ books were cute and easy enough. 

He was glad when he started to feel his eyelids get heavier with every page turn, and soon enough, it was time to call it a night. Shiro set the book on the nightstand next to him, keeping in mind to mark the page, and then settled in under the covers.

 _Still,_ even for as tired as he felt physically, he couldn’t get his mind to quiet down, which left him tossing, turning and even sighing as he tried to _finally_ drift off.

He yawned, but what did it even mean if he couldn’t fucking sleep?

The next time Shiro rolled over, he felt cold hands on the back of his neck. “Go to sleep, dummy.” Lance pulled Shiro’s head down, and towards himself, thin body curled in and tucked against Shiro.

For a brief moment, Shiro panicked, but Lance was asleep and moving now would only bother him.

Shiro had to fight away the distinct feeling of being pissed off, because this only made his situation that much worse.

Shiro willed himself to relax.

Lance was warm. Like, _obviously_ he was warm, because he was alive and warm-blooded and all, but like, he was warm to the point of almost being _hot._ Well, minus the hand. He must have left that lying out right in front of the fan like a dummy.

(And he called _Shiro_ the furnace.)

The prince was all soft, warm skin and the gentle press of fingers against his neck— fragile, Shiro found, after he put an arm around Lance when it threatened to fall asleep under the prince’s weight.

It was… overwhelming.

His heart pounded in his chest and Shiro was almost convinced he was gonna die there, but after awhile, the true panic subsided, leaving him more tired than before.

He didn’t remember when it happened, but he fell asleep, and in the morning he woke up in Lance’s arms, somehow shifting position during the night so that _Shiro_ was the small spoon.

It felt strange, given that Lance was the smaller of the two, but it wasn’t an unwelcome idea.

He could get used to this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're moving in together!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to link to it last time, but i drew my idea of [what altean lance would look like](https://twitter.com/dogmemes420/status/854934224859787264)??

**Quintant 48**

The final days leading up to when they would finally move out had Shiro anxious.

Something about living with Lance— just the two of them— made him jittery and almost scared.

Being alone with Lance in their apartment, no Holt siblings to pop in and yell about stuff, no Sam and Colleen to call them away to learn something new about life on Earth… just _them._

It had first settled in when they were looking at listings and Sam had asked, “So, do you two want a one bedroom or a two bedroom?” And he honest to God _winked_ at them, _obviously_ aware of their sleeping arrangement. 

Having him be supportive was nice n’ all, but _Samuel._

Obviously, Shiro didn’t and doesn’t expect anything to come from moving out— it’s just _different._ Adapting isn’t necessarily hard, it can just be… _weird._

And weird, by Shiro’s definition, is sharing an apartment with Lance; a bed, a kitchen, a living room, maybe a bathroom, if _that_ becomes a thing and just… a _home._ A new one, anyway.

He was as excited as he was ready to die. A real change-up, considering most of the time he was much less excited and much more ready to die.

And it was not long after that that he was standing in the living room of his shared two bedroom, two bathroom apartment— a decision made “just in case”.

Sam was like, “want one bedroom or two? Wink wink” and Lance was like “Let’s go with two— just in case” and gave Shiro a pointed look.

Now, Shiro didn’t consider himself an idiot, he was actually pretty smart… y’know, when he wasn’t exhausted beyond belief, but he couldn’t figure out what Lance meant with his look and “just in case”.

Just in case of _what?_  


* * *

  
**Quintant 62**

The day they moved in, they had help from the Holt family to carry in the boxes of shit they’d need. 

The only problem was Colleen.

Colleen decided she wanted to help organize and decorate— or, rather, “Give the place a bit of a woman’s touch before [they] really got a hold of it”. Shiro had to guess she didn’t know about Lance’s interest in interior decorating and well… his borderline obsessive beauty treatment regimen. (Which made sense, because since coming to Earth Lance hadn’t really been keeping up with it— this would change when they finally had their apartment, Shiro was assured, because even if he didn’t like it, he was determined toward keeping the number of people who knew he took care of his skin to _two_ people— Shiro and himself. It’s hard to keep the secret from someone you _live with,_ and also he sort of spent a fair amount of time complaining about his complexion. That stands as about the only reason Lance has any negative air in regards to living with Shiro.)

For every suggestion, Lance had a rebuttal. He was _not_ going to let _Colleen_ dictate how _his_ apartment was going to look. He didn’t say as much, but Shiro could easily imagine him saying it and then quickly turning to him with, “ _our_ apartment” before turning back.

At the Holt house, he hadn’t been so nit-picky, mostly because it wasn’t his place to complain. But Shiro heard. _Boy,_ did Shiro _hear._

 _“Burnt orange curtains, Shiro._ Burnt orange. _That’s probably my least favorite color EVER. Biased, I know, but bURNT ORANGE.”_

Now he was standing with Mrs. Holt by the window near the door. “Colleen, I love what you’re thinking, really, but I’m telling you: Earth tones. I’m talkin’ blues, greens, browns— hopefully white floral, but _simplistic._ You know what I mean, right?”

Colleen looked a bit irked. “I just feel like monochrome would suit the two of you more.”

Uh oh.

“Again, love the idea, but I’m just so sold on the Earth colors, y’know? They really call to my inner Earthling.” Not the best response on Lance’s part, especially because he sounded just the right amount of sarcastic to already be considered _too_ sarcastic.

Colleen was really sold on monochrome. Lance was really _not._

At least he wasn’t making the situation worse.

In the end, he won because it _was_ he and Shiro’s apartment, and Colleen didn’t seem angry about giving up on her idea, so that was good. The last thing Shiro wanted and/or needed was a grudge held against them by their host family because Lance didn’t agree to a black and white layout for their apartment.

With a few more boxes and a promise to make good on the Earthy whatever in the apartment, moving in was complete.

It had begun.

With everything dropped off and the essentials unpacked, the Holts had left, meaning now it was just Lance and Shiro. Alone. In their apartment.

Hoh _boy._

“So! It’s like, 6:30 or something. Wanna flip a coin to see who makes dinner tonight?” Lance was smiling as he asked and it made Shiro want to volunteer.

“I can give it a try?” Keyword being _try._

Shiro was anxious.

“You can start simple, y’know.”

Shiro stiffened at his words, expression no doubt dumbfounded. “Am I that obvious?”

“Lately? You were more stoic on Altea. You’re getting soft.”

Well, that _really_ made him anxious.

The flustered elation in his mind drained away into panic and self-loathing.

Soft. Soft meant he couldn’t protect Lance.

Earth was still dangerous. Yeah, there were limitations to Shiro’s ability to protect him now— no dire need for it— the fact that he’d have a job and maybe even attend college, if that’d work. But again, he didn’t have much use otherwise. 

Lance didn’t look particularly bothered by his own observation, though. He had a small, gentle looking smile on his face and a soft twinkle in his eyes.

Even so, Shiro was wounded.

He pulled himself together, immediately doing his best to put up a subtle front. “Right. Dinner. Yeah. Is green bean casserole okay?” He didn’t add that it’s about the only thing he probably won’t burn if he tries to cook it, because that would only add to how useless he felt.

_Be strong. Be strong for Lance._

“That sounds great! I’m gonna break in the bathroom. Make me proud, hot stuff.” Lance winked at him and then fucked out of the kitchen, either to shit or shower, depending on what he meant by breaking it in.

When he was gone, Shiro let his face fall and he sighed, grabbing a pan from one of the lower cabinets built into the kitchen counter.

Thankfully green bean casserole was a pretty mindless dish to make. It was mostly just twisting the can opener so he could dump out the four cans of green beans, opening two cans of cream of mushroom soup, stirring it around, adding pepper (a personal preference of theirs) and then sprinkling french onions on top. And then, of course, popping that sucker in the oven.

The flush from the restroom told Shiro it was definitely a shit sort of break-in.

 _“Aw man!”_ The sink started up and Shiro peeked into the short hallway, eyebrow raised curiously. It wasn’t long before the water stopped, the door opened, shut and Lance ran out into the living room.

_“We forgot air freshener!”_

“Aww, _Lance!_ ”

“I’m sorry! Jeeze!” He fanned the air in front of him, eyes watering, “Can I just say that I’m I glad I didn’t have to go when the Holts were here? That is _not_ an emergency I would have wanted with them around.”

“You mean with _Keith_ around?”

“Shiro, he sprayed me with Febreze after I took a shit once— _yes, Keith!_ Although I guess Febreze would be good right now, since we don’t have any.” He groaned. “I had to hold my breath the whole time I washed my hands.”

Shiro gave him a pat on the back.

“Lance.”

“Yeah?”

“You either trapped the smell inside or left it to leak out.”

_“Quiznak!”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets spicy in the shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the nsfw has arrived
> 
> im posting the chapter a day early bc im gonna be busy tomorrow! so!! happy tuesday, folks!

**Quintant 63**

The following morning, Shiro was greeted by a note explaining that Lance was going out with Colleen for a few hours to shop for stuff: curtains, pillows, rugs, etc.

That meant Shiro had the place to himself for awhile.

He could deal with this.

First thing he did was make himself something to eat — a bowl of cereal. You can’t really fuck that up, unless you count spilling cereal and/or milk, which Shiro did _neither of,_ thank you very much.

He plopped down on the couch and took his sweet time choosing something to watch because 1) cereal is better soggy and 2) he wanted to watch and eat but he was a picky man when it came to television, and he wanted to slurp on soggy chunks of Captain Crunch with some _quality_ entertainment playing in front of him.

He’d finally settled on some documentary about space, and it calmed him to see more of what he missed on Earth — the stars, random planets, comets and all of that _space._ He felt crowded on Earth. He kind of hated it, honestly, and he tried to tell himself he didn’t, but he did. He was mostly trying to avoid being negative for Lance’s sake, because he hated it enough as it was — he didn’t need Shiro to help him hate it any more than he already did.

He shoved a spoonful in his mouth and ate as the voiceover guided him through the lesson.

 

When he finished eating, he decided to treat himself to a shower (mostly because he realized earlier he was kinda horny, but his stomach had called, so it’d been important to eat first.)

Shiro grabbed a towel, his deodorant and a change of clothes, which he tossed onto the toilet lid, purposefully putting his towel on top for easy grabbins.

He turned on the water so it could start heating up while he stripped, and afterward he stopped to look in the mirror.

A short-cut top, buzzed sides and a patch of white bangs greeted him, as well as the usual pink scar across his nose, and the firm fleshy panes of his chest, starkly contrasted by the white metal of his prosthetic arm.

He was so used to his appearance now that looking at himself wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but he still hated it. He was insecure because he was scarred up, because he couldn’t be like Lance — physically unadulterated by the Galra — and because he felt less human like this. Like he was, and always would be, a fraction of the machine they wanted him to be.

Sometimes, like now, he’d look in the mirror and wish he could love himself even half as much as he loved Lance.

Shiro looked away and knelt down to test the water.

A little too hot. He adjusted the temperature and got in, hot water washing over him and cascading down his body.

He was at least a little bit excited, because it’d been awhile since he’d last masturbated — a few weeks, actually, so Shiro was looking forward to this shower.

Mostly he’d stopped because now his mind wouldn’t stop wandering to Lance, and Shiro felt guilty. He’d never liked someone before. He didn’t really think about sex all that often and so now, with his feelings for Lance getting more and more overwhelming, he was _starting_ to think about it… and it felt wrong to do the shit he did — think about kissing him, staring at him probably _way_ too much and well… fantasizing about him. _Especially_ when he isn’t sure how Lance feels about him, otherwise it might be okay?

He just felt pent up, and his dick was definitely excited by the idea of finally dropping a load, so he figured he’d just try to _not_ think and get off so he could leave it at that.

That’s what he _wanted_ to do, but everything else preferred _Lance._ And it was easy, too. It was easy to imagine being in the shower with him, _finally_ getting to express his feelings by kissing his neck and behind his ear; by holding Lance’s face in his hands and kissing until they were light-headed under the stream of hot water raining down on them; by holding Lance against his chest, the press of his back against Shiro’s pecs and stomach; letting his own hands, pale in comparison to Lance’s naturally brown skin, travel down his chest, gentle and loving, towards his cock so he could stroke it.

Shiro wrapped a hand around his own cock.

Lance, holding onto soap ledge in the shower and gripping on to Shiro as the older teen stroked his cock to hardness, holding him gently, but firmly, by the waist.

Shiro treated his dick like he would Lance’s — speeding up and then slowing down, teasing the head, thumbing at the slit.

He imagined how Lance would sound, moaning and his voice echoing inside the shower and restroom. He had such a nice voice, his moans would probably sound like pleasured music to Shiro’s ears.

Shiro felt himself getting close, and the Lance in his imagination was right with him.

_“Shiro, I’m —”_

And with a few more strokes, he would come, a final moan being ripped from his throat as his orgasm washed over him; Shiro’s hand sped up and it wasn’t long before he was coming himself.

Shiro let his forehead rest against the wall of the shower, rinsing his hand off under the stream and then rubbing it against his hip for good measure while he caught his breath.

He almost felt too good to feel guilty.

It’d kick in later, no doubt.

For now, though, he felt lighter, and he was ready to finish this up and take a nap or something. God, it sucked to get tired so easily, but the reality was, he spent 70% of his time exhausted and once he was asleep, he could easily sleep eleven hours (or more, on good nights). Not always, when but his body needed it, anyway.

 

Shiro was pretty quick to wash up afterwards; shampoo his hair, wash his body, towel off and redress.

When he went back to his bedroom, the floor was a mess of boxes with a stray pair of Lance’s socks, so he picked them up and tossed them into the laundry basket and organized the boxes so they’d be neater next time they decided to put effort into organizing their apartment again.

Napping was quickly struck from the list because if he napped now, his schedule would be fucked and he wouldn’t sleep tonight, so then it was a matter of “What the hell do I do now?”

TV? Read? Clean or something?

Nah, no way.

And then he _got it_ : he’d go for a jog. Get familiar with the streets and restaurants around their apartment or something. Maybe he and Lance could get dinner together (as bodyguard and prince, he says to himself).

Sounded like a plan.  


* * *

  
When he got back, Lance was there setting a new pillow down on the couch while Colleen helped hang up their new curtains.

It was definitely coming together, he had to admit. He didn’t care much for decor himself, but he knew enough to know when something looked nice.

“It’s looking great, you two!”

“Thanks!” Lance smiled at him, wide and gorgeous. “We had some trouble finding certain stuff, so we had to compromise, but it worked out well enough!”

Colleen nodded. “He has pretty specific ideas, so it’s hard when you’re not willing to settle for second-best, but like he said, it worked out.”

Shiro could practically _feel_ the tension between them as she said that — especially when Lance tossed a brief glare in her direction, which she didn’t bother to notice, too busy fussing with the curtains.

“Well! Either way, my great taste saved the day. C’mon, Shiro! Sit down!” He patted a seat on the couch.

“Uh, I don’t think I should. I’m sweaty.”

Lance, curiously enough, blushed at that. “Oh. Uh, yeah. That’s. That’s definitely a problem. You should shower, then. You can get a better feel for it all when you’re done.”

And _that_ was when Shiro realized how dumb it was to go jogging right after a shower.

The epitome of intelligence and thinking ahead, really.

He was actually sort of disappointed. He _really_ wanted to sit down when Lance invited him too. But instead he was a smelly man who had to go take _another_ shower.

 _Showers are homophobic,_ he thought, a spin on something Katie used to say sometimes when they lived with the Holts. Not showers specifically, but just anything that inconvenienced her (a lesbian). After Katie found out Shiro had a thing for Lance, that’s when she finally came out to Shiro and insisted he tell Lance, but Shiro declined. A lot. _So much._ Well, more to himself than to her, but still.

“Look, man,” she’d said, “as a small but arguably _giant_ lesbian, if I like-liked a girl, I’d let her know.”

“Even if you didn’t know whether she was a lesbian too or something?”

She shrugged. “Why not? Sure, ‘no’ isn’t the worst thing she could say, but if she’s homophobic, it wasn’t worth it anyway. I’ll just move on and find a new girl to unfortunately pine after.” 

“And ‘pine’ is…?”

“Pining is when you like ‘em a lot and you’re all caught up in your feelings but you haven’t told ‘em yet.”

“Oh.” She hit the nail on the head.

She pulled her foot up onto the chair and rested her elbow on her knee, “Yeah. So like, you like Lance, right? And you haven’t told him yet. You probably don’t want to, because you’re afraid that like, you’ll tell him and he’ll think you’re gross and not want anything to do with you, right?” 

Shiro wasn’t comfortable answering.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Anyway, my point is, I know he means a lot to you, but doesn’t him not knowing and you feeling so much for him bother you?”

Shiro provided her with a noncommittal shrug.

“ _Wow_ you are really bad with feelings. Look, it’s just… you’re on Earth now and like, if you like him, you should tell him? If you’re as close as you look like you are then you should be able to tell him and not be judged too harshly, right? And if he _does_ judge you,” she dropped her leg again and grabbed for the comic on the table in front of her, idly playing with it and avoiding eye contact, “he can either get over it or you can part ways. It’ll be hard, not gonna lie, it usually is, but you’ll feel better, I think? Because he knows and it’s off your chest and you don’t have to wonder how he’ll react anymore. You’re either together, not together but cool with each other _or,_ worst case, you’re on your own and one day you’ll find someone else to like who might like you back. It’s all about fishing around for the right person and it’s really about taking that shot in the dark to see whether Lance is your hit or miss.”

Well, she definitely had a lot to say.

She dropped the comic and looked at him. “Shiro, you’re a good guy. I just want you to enjoy your new start and live a happy life here. Life is shit in general, so why make yourself suffer longer than you need to? You’ve known each other for years, it’s not like you’re springing this on some poor fucker you just met.” She reached up and tucked a part of her shoulder-length hair behind her ear, “And uhm, for what it’s worth, I don’t mean to spoil anything for you, but I really think he likes you back?” She gave him an awkward pat on the arm. “Just wanted to say all this before you moved out. Good luck, my dude.”

And when she was done, Shiro told himself he was most definitely _not_ going to tell Lance, no matter how much sense what she said made.

Because _no._

But laying in bed with Lance that night, when the guilt from before finally kicked in, he realized maybe it _was_ time.

The guilt was only getting worse every day, and if he finally said something, maybe Lance could end it or shut it down, at least.

 _Lance likes you back, cool, we can date, maybe. Lance doesn’t like me, I just stare at pictures of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson until I’m cured of my feelings. The Rock is hot. Hotter than Lance, maybe. Or he_ will _be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fooled you all, the real OTP is Shiro/The Rock how do u feel now?? played like a FLUTE


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's got allergies and Lance makes tea

**Quintant 74**

The next time he woke up, Lance was buried in his neck, breath puffing hot against his skin.

His nose felt all stopped up and he felt _nasty._

Irritated, Shiro realized he was sick.

He only knew because he’d seen Keith get sick once. He’d come home after throwing up and Colleen realized he was running a fever.

“Why didn’t you say anything, Keith?”

To which Keith responded, “I had a test in History, mom, I didn’t want to make it up.”

Colleen called him silly and put him to bed so he could get better.

Shiro groaned.

Now he’d have to call the Holts and ask about medicine recommendations for his symptoms, because he’d run into very few things on Altea that had made him sick, and medication between the two planets was no doubt _very_ different.

 

After a fairly brief call with Colleen, Shiro found it was easy enough. Apparently it was just allergies. Colleen just told him to take Benadryl and maybe some DayQuil/NyQuil, drink tea, try to get some rest. 

Seemed solid.

Shiro was getting ready to head to the store when Lance woke up.

“Shiro?”

“I’m here.”

“Well yeah, but what’re you doing?”

“I have to go to store to get some medicine. I’ve got allergies.”

Lance quickly sat up. “You’re allergic? What are you allergic to? Me?”

Shiro deadpanned. “I’ve been around you for years, Lance, it’s not you. It’s just spring and there are a lot of plants with a lot pollen.” 

Lance was obviously concerned, though. More so than Shiro thought he should be. “Let me go instead. You stay here. I can get the medicine!”

Shiro was hesitant, to say the least. Lance had some issues going to stores without anyone else, because he could easily misread the labels, buy the wrong stuff _and_ he was easily distracted, so he was tempted to buy a lot of things he didn’t need, OR without a list he’d forget things.. Hell, Shiro could do the same, but he at least liked to think he had a leg-up, considering he reads more Earth books than Lance bothers to and then, well, he wasn’t tempted to buy tiny lockers and baskets with a twinkly-eyed “they’re so _tiny,_ Shiro!”.

He got up. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. ‘But Lance, you sucked at buying the right stuff every time the Holts tried to test your shopping skills’ but I don’t have to go alone? I can call one of the Holts. I’m sure Pidge’d come with me, or maybe even Matt, since Colleen and Sam are working, right?”

Shiro sighed. Lance looked like he really wanted to do this, his expression all earnest and desperate. He was just lucky it was Saturday. “If you want to go you could just come with me?”

“No, you shouldn’t go because of your allergies! It’s the trees, right? So why would you go outside where there are more trees if you’re allergic to them?” Shiro didn’t think that was _quite_ how that worked, but he did have a point.

“Okay. I give. I’ll let you go, but please don’t go alone even if you think you can do it. It was hard allowing you to go alone for the tests, but this time it isn’t necessary. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Of course, now Lance looked offended. “Shiro, I’m not a kid. Shit, I think even if I _was_ a kid, I’d be stronger than these Earthlings are. I’m not helpless and I know my own strength. Sure, I’m more of a gun guy but I can land a punch if I really need to.”

Anxiety creeped into the edges of Shiro’s being.

He knew this. Of course he did. Lance had _always_ been stronger than he was. He just lacked vigilance, and the king had always said that two was better than one in a fight, so even for as useless as Shiro being in the position as bodyguard as he might have been, to his credit, he was vigilant, had a stronger than normal right arm and was the second of two in the “two is better than one” that served as the motto for his job.

Useless. 

It always came back to being useless.

Lance loved him and all, but Shiro was still useless when he valued his position as much as he did.

“Right. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll lay down. Good luck.” Shiro turned away and avoided letting his face reflect in the mirror as it fell. Now he just wanted Lance to leave so he could lay down and mentally shit on himself in peace.

He did, and Shiro realized as he collapsed back onto the bed that maybe it was time to rethink things. He was beating himself up too much every time he realized there definitely wasn’t much need for him to be Lance’s bodyguard anymore, but what else could he be? It felt like the missing piece of his puzzle, y’know? He was already Lance’s friend and all, and bodyguard just felt like it made the picture complete. Two sides of himself for Lance, and so without that, all he was was a friend. Some dude living in his apartment and sleeping in the same bed with him, and that felt even weirder when Shiro tried to imagine how being just his friend worked.

He needed to talk to Lance.

Actually, maybe it was like, _definitely_ time to act on what Katie had said, and confess.

He shuddered.  


* * *

  
When Lance got back, he had a plastic bag full of medicine hanging from his arm and he burst into the room.

“Shirooo!” He sing-songed. “I talked to Colleen while I was shopping and she said you should take some DayQuil right now, so come to the kitchen, big guy, ‘cause you’re taking this—” he tossed Shiro the bottle of DayQuil, “while I make tea! I got a lot because Colleen said tea is always good to keep around the house. Well, apartment, in our case, but whatever! Kitchen, Allergy Man!”

Shiro got up and followed him into the kitchen, where Lance tossed the bag onto the counter and started pulling out boxes of tea, a thing of Benadryl, the NyQuil and Febreze.

“Okay, so, I’ve got chamomile, apple-cinnamon, peppermint, orange, blueberry, green tea and white tea.” He stacked them all so Shiro could see the labels.

“That’s a lot of tea.”

“I wanted to give you a lot of options. Also, I wanted to try them all too.”

“Hm. Peppermint, I guess?”

Lance nodded and opened the box so he could pull out a tea bag. “Shit! Hot water!” He fumbled around trying to find the measuring cup until he found it. He turned on the tap, filled it up and put it in the microwave.

He sighed.

“So, you’re drinking some, right?”

“Yeah. I going with apple-cinnamon though.” He got two mugs out of their glass cabinet and tied the teabags to the handles so the bags would hang inside the cup but not fall in when he poured the water.

“How did you learn to do that?”

“Oh, uhm…” Lance saw the awed expression on Shiro’s face and blushed. “I used to drink tea and talk with Colleen sometimes, like, late at night. She sometimes stayed up late doing chores and I would help, and when we were done she’d make us some chamomile tea and we’d talk at the table while we drank. She got me to make it a few times in case I ever needed to do it, and well,” The water finished and he pulled it out of the microwave, “here we are.” He poured it. “You might want to taste it in a bit and add sugar if you want to.”

“Ah, okay.” Shiro scooted the mug closer.

After Lance got the sugar out of the pantry, it was quiet, except for the sound of the clock ticking.

“So… Febreze huh?”

“Shit happens.”

Shiro snickered. “I’ll say it does.”

Lance held help up the bottle, finger on the trigger. “I will spray you with the Febreze literally right now. Bite me, Shirogane.”

Shiro held his hands up. “Okay, okay! I won’t mention that you have a stinky butt.”

“SHIRO.”

He heard his own laugh ring out and he stopped it short, blushing.

Lance’s face was really red and he swatted at Shiro’s arm. “Don’t do that. Laugh, dude. You have a nice laugh and it’s good to hear it, too. You always look so stressed.”

He felt his face get hotter. “Well, I… I mean? I _am_ stressed, but… thank you.”

Lance’s expression got a bit more serious.

“Do you… do you wanna talk about it?”

Shiro looked at him. “No. Not really.”

Lance nodded.

“But I _should._ ”

“But does that mean you will?”

“... Yeah.” Shiro sucked in a breath, held it, and released it. “Lately I’ve just been… Bothered? I don’t know. It’s weird.” He tasted his tea. “Uhm, …sugar.” Lance raised an eyebrow before he got it and passed Shiro the sugar. “Like, for one thing, I was your bodyguard on Altea, right? But now we’re on Earth and you don’t really need me for that anymore. So then I’m just, what, your friend? Which I’m not complaining about it, it’s just, I feel sort of like I don't really have much of a purpose anymore. Useless, I guess. That's how I feel.” Shiro mixed some in and let that hang in the air. He sipped his tea.

“Useless?”

“Yeah. You’re stronger than humans. You don’t really _need_ me for what I was hired to do. So then I’m just sorta… here? Some dude that sleeps and lives with you. It feels like only half of who I should be.”

Lance stirred sugar into his own tea. “Hm… Well… is there anything that you think could fix that?”

“I don’t really know to be honest with you. I’ve been thinking about it while you were gone but I can’t really think straight.”

Shiro saw the consideration on Lance’s face before it turned into a grin. “Well, why not? Are you gay or something?” He grinned bigger.

Shiro sputtered on his tea and set the cup down, “Lance!”

“I’m just askin’! I mean, you don’t really have to answer, because like, no forced outtings here, and also, the joke kinda _really_ doesn’t fit the conversation, but I just… I don’t know. Trying to lighten the mood. Maybe not the best route to take.” He took a big drink of his tea and looked away.

“No, it’s okay. I mean, that’s… actually kind of part of it, I guess. Well, not I guess, I mean, you’re _right._ I’m not straight. I just feel bad about it?”

“Why? It’s not a big deal. Like, if it helps any, I’m bi, so that makes two of us! Two gay roommates, bein’ gay but like, not together.”

Shiro winced. “That’s the thing…”

Lance’s eyes widened. “Wait, you—”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll just—” He went to get up, suddenly realizing how awful the whole idea of going through with it was. His heart was beating fast and the panic was seeping in around the edges.

“No!” Lance reached across the counter for him. “I — me too. For a long time. Like, since Altea kind of time.”

He was still panicked and now it felt like it was all concentrated instead of spread out. He gaped at Lance, trying to figure out what to say but too concentrated on his physical reaction. “I don’t know what to say or do.”

And so Lance pulled him by the collar over the counter, conveniently missing the mug of tea, and kissed him hard on the mouth. And it actually helped.

He kept expecting Lance to pull away, but instead, Lance just kept going, which gave Shiro the time he needed to relax, panic oozing out and allowing for heart-thumping pleasure to take its place.

Just when Shiro was starting to really enjoy the kiss, though, Lance pulled away and he smiled, eyes unfocused as he tilted his head back and groaned out. “ _God_ I’ve waited _so_ long to do that.”

But it wasn’t _enough._

It was nice, but just… not enough.

“Can we kiss again?”

Lance righted his head and looked at Shiro. “Again?”

“Again.”

Lance nodded and that was all Shiro needed to see before he dove in for another kiss.

He worked his lips desperately against Lance’s, and Lance returned with equal desperation and vigor, his grip lighter on Shiro’s waist while Shiro’s own had Lance pulled firmer against him.

He was desperate; desperate to feel Lance’s lips against his, to feel his body against his own, to translate everything he’d been feeling for so long to him, because he needed to get it out and make it known.

With every second that went by, he felt the months of guilt, heartache and longing fall from his shoulders.

Lance’s lips were what he expected them to be: soft and warm, and thanks to his tea, he tasted like apple-cinnamon which mingled with Shiro’s peppermint. It was weird, but not awful. Shiro was in love, honestly. His mouth was pleasantly wet and Shiro liked the slick sound of their lips working against each other. He was almost afraid he’d get hard in his pants, because his dick started to stir, but he never got to the point of a substantial boner.

Finally, he pulled away to breathe, speaking breathlessly with his face pressed against Lance’s, “I love you so much, God I hope I’m not too much.”

“Shit man, I love you too. And you’re not, I don’t think you could ever be. You’re about as perfect as they come.” Lance gave him a peck on the lips, arms coming up to rest on Shiro’s shoulders as he looked him in the eyes. “I love kissing you.”

Shiro’s hands held firm to Lance’s hips. “I love kissing you too.”

“I can tell.” Lance’s eyes glittered with love and happiness, but he closed them tight to let out a soft laugh. “You look at me like you’re so in love. I guess you sort of are, and I was just too afraid to think of it like that in case I was wrong, but… Jeeze, Shiro, you’re really gay.”

“Yeah… for you.” Shiro tried to kiss him again and Lance laughed, pushing his face away. 

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure we just kissed for like, ten minutes or something, and we still have tea to drink.”

“Right, none taken.”

They went back to drinking tea, only now they were looking at each other more.

There was a really specific feeling in the air that just screamed “we need to drink tea and do literally so many other things, but we don’t want to take our lips or hands off of each other.”

“I’m… glad that worked out. If not I was probably just gonna cry and stare at pictures of The Rock.”

“You _weren’t!_ ”

“I _was._ But you saved me from _that,_ so thank you.”

Lance snickered. “‘Thank you for being gay for me too’, he says, to which I reply, how couldn’t I be? Also, thank you too, I guess, because my plan was to just eat a lot of ice cream and finally move into my room. Like, forever, I guess.”

“You were going to confess?”

“Yeah. Some time, on impulse, so I wouldn’t overthink it and chicken out. You kinda beat me to it, though, which I didn’t expect at all. Mostly cause I didn’t think you liked me back but also because you’re a little emotionally constipated, no offense.”

“Nah, it’s fine. You’re right. It’s hard to talk about feelings sometimes. Especially because I’ve got a lot of baggage, I guess.” 

Lance looked at him expectantly. 

“Yeah, not right now. Someday, though, for sure. It’s just… a lot. And it’ll be a lot for both of us when I _do_ finally talk about it. Plus right now I’m still really caught up in wanting to kiss you, and I’d rather not push that aside to talk about childhood trauma.”

Lance made a pained face and quickly went to take another drink of tea.

“Allergies aren't contagious are they?”

“No, they’re person specific, because they’re not a virus, just pollen. If you’re worried though, I’m not sure Earth pollen affects Alteans? But I _could_ be wrong…”

“I think I’d rather you be right, for once.”

Shiro smiled. “For once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAY


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no penises were unsheathed in the making of this smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know how science or jobs work so have fun with THIS bullshit

**Quintant 77**

It became _very_ apparent _very _quickly that they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.__

Years of pent-up emotions and passion came flooding out in the span of three days — and really, that was probably only scratching the surface.

3 days of just… _so_ much making out.

On the couch, in the kitchen, in their bedroom, after they brushed their teeth, when they had to wait a bit for their food to cook — Shiro couldn’t really say it was _the most_ he’d ever made out in his life, because, really, he had nothing to compare it to. Lance was his first everything, as far as romance was concerned. And he felt honored.

This time, Lance was sitting down on the stove with Shiro in between his legs. His delicate tan hands had Shiro’s face cupped and he was easily dominating the kiss, which Shiro didn’t mind at all.

Yeah, in like, every single fantasy he’d ever had prior to them getting together, Shiro imagined _he’d_ be the more dominant one, but he wasn’t displeased in the slightest to see that the prince was definitely a leader. Actually, it was really nice. Somehow being able to let go and have Lance take charge lifted a weight off of his shoulders he sometimes forgot was there.

Things were… a lot. And Lance made them shrink, even if only temporarily.

Suddenly, Lance pushed him away and Shiro fumbled, trying not to fall, but the prince had quickly jumped off of the oven and pulled him close again. He backed them up against the counter behind Shiro, and the taller teen bumped his head against the cabinets a bit before Lance tugged him forward by the collar and their lips met again, forceful and hungry.

“Fuck,” Lance pecked him, “fuck,” he pecked him again and threw his head into Shiro’s shoulder, “fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.” He bit down and Shiro felt his cock jump in his pants.

He far from expected Lance to bite him, much less for him to _enjoy_ being bitten. And then that _smell_.

“Lance?”

“I love you so much, the most, God, I’ve got it so bad, I don’t know what to do with all of my feelings. It’s like… it's like I can’t get enough of them out as much as I want to and no matter how much I try.”

Actually, Shiro understood that.

“No, me t—” the microwave went off. Shiro frowned. “—oo.”

Lance flicked off the microwave as he stomped over to open it up and Shiro caught another whiff of whatever that scent was he’d been smelling the past three days, only this time it sort of… smelled irritated?

Shiro knew it was connected to Lance, somehow. It _had_ to be. No, it _was_. He just didn’t know how or why.

Might as well ask.

“Hey, Lance?”

“Hm?” He was angrily stirring his mac n’ cheese.

“Is there something I should know about scents or something?”

Lance looked up at him. “So you can smell them? I mean, I knew you’d be able to, but I was afraid they wouldn’t work on you for whatever reason.”

“‘They’, meaning...?”

“My pheromones! Do you not know about pheromones?”

Shiro looked at him. “Well, I mean, sort of? Because humans have them, but Alteans have them too?”

“Of course! It’s how we tell who we’re compatible with — biologically, at least, I guess. Because sometimes someone could smell great but be a total dick.” He took a bite of his mac.

“Is there like… a catch or something? A difference?”

“Well, Alteans have ones that are stronger than humans, and you really only become in tune with someone's pheromones once you’ve established yourself as a couple. You can tell with strangers, but not to the same degree you could with family or partners, but I don’t think it translates across species until you’re established. It’s to kind of help things, I guess? Like, so you know when they’re not feeling well and stuff like that — it’s to like, prevent too much conflict. I think that’s about it.”

Shiro could sort of tell, because he wasn't sure he’d been able to _smell_ another human’s emotional shifts. Not like he could with Lance. Before it had been normal. He had to read his expression, but now he could just smell it from the other room. It was as convenient as it was odd, to say the least.

“Yeah, that makes sense. Are you okay though?”

Lance stiffened a bit. “Why? What do you smell?”

“Your frustration. Just eat and we can pick back up.” Shiro hugged him from behind, hands rubbing across Lance's stomach. “I don't wanna stop any more than you do. Promise.” Shiro kissed his neck.

“Ugh, you're _so_ not helping.”

Shiro smirked. “Eat up, dummy.”

“Will do, Captain Dummy.” Lance took a bite, smiling. The frustrated smell dulled a bit.

“I think I’m more like King Dummy rank, by now. I _am_ dating a prince after all.” Shiro nuzzled him.

Lance's smell changed again, sending out just a twinge more sadness than love.

Whatever it was, he opted to eat, but Shiro had an idea, at least, about what could be bothering him.

They didn't get to talk about it until later, though, and that's when Lance finally asked — the frustration and sadness permeating the room, “Do I even count as a prince if all of my people are dead? It just feels wrong. Like I failed them.”

“I'm sure there are others out there, Lance.” Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. “We might not find them, because that happens sometimes, but you're the last of a royal Altean bloodline. That doesn't really change. Sure, on Earth you’ll be Just Lance, but you’ll always be my prince, dating or otherwise.”

Lance smiled. It was small, and sad, but he smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Now c’mon, we need some sleep. Big day of being gay tomorrow and whatnot.” Lance had finished eating and threw the plastic container in the trash before they laid down together, Shiro the big spoon for once.

“'And whatnot’.”

“Shut up.”

Lance laughed and rolled over. He was quiet for a moment, and then said, “I love you. You always know what to say.”

“Shut up?”

“No! The prince thing, dummy!”

“Oh. I mean, I try.”

“You do a good job.”

It was quiet, and Shiro would have thought Lance was asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that he could feel Lance's obviously-not-sleeping breathing rhythm.

It felt weird to know that, but at the same, it made his heart happy.

“Shiro… you’ve always been there for me, like, protecting me and helping me with problems and keeping me straight n stuff, and I admire that, y’know? You're like, serious but goofy and sweet and really smart but... but why do _you_ like _me?_ ”

Shiro didn't even need to think too hard about it. For phrasing, maybe, but he knew what his answer was in a heartbeat. “When I was on that Galra ship, I was wrung tight. I couldn't let my guard down, I couldn't do anything but follow orders and hope I wasn't the next one to die. All kinds of people dropped like flies around me, dying off, being tortured… it. It wasn't pretty. 

“So, when you guys saved me, it was a relief. I didn't have to be so guarded anymore. I mean, I _did_ , but not in the same way. My life wasn't constantly in danger. And then I was assigned to you and you were just… so full of life. Happiness. It was something I barely had the privilege of knowing, let alone have the chance to forget. You taught me how to have fun, let loose, even just a little bit. I had a job, but it still gave me time to get to know you and understand what living was really like. I fought to stay alive on that ship, but I guess I never really understood why life was worth fighting for until I met you, just that it made sense to fight for it, even though all it got me was another day. Then, on Altea, I knew I wanted to live for you. For what I had then. For _us_. It brought a weird sort of balance between seriousness and the joy of living and… I don't know. I'm talking too much.”

“And I’m hot, right?”

“And you’re hot, yes.” Shiro chuckled.

“I’m sorry I’m not good at being serious, but like, that was really nice to hear. I’m sorry about your past.”

“It is what it is, I’m just glad to be here now.”

  


* * *

  


**Day 85**

Aside from how great passionately making out with Lance in essentially every inch of their apartment was, something else weighed on Shiro's mind.

_Sex._

That was natural, right? Wanting to make love with the person who mattered most to him in the universe?

Shiro could respect that like, maybe eight days into the date-zone could be a bit early in terms of getting hot and heavy, but somehow it didn't _feel_ too early from his perspective. He was ready. He wanted all Lance could give and he wanted the emotion and physical mesh of their bodies as they went at it. He’d imagined it enough times.

Now he wanted the real thing.

But Lance seemed reluctant, which bothered him a bit.

Respect his boundaries, yes, of course he would. Shiro wasn't an _animal_. He just had wants.

And so Shiro shifted “talk to Lance about sexy stuff” to the top of his list of wants.

 _Keep your dick and heart at bay until you guys talk about it,_ he told himself.

But they didn't get a chance to talk for awhile.

Very soon after that night together, they were thrust into the working world.

 

“Now, if it's too much at first, that's okay, because we're here for you, just let us know.” Mr. Holt told them both.

Shiro was working at a coffee shop owned by one of Mrs. Holt’s friends.

“Are ya sure ya nineteen? Ya look twenty-somethin’.” She had a boston accent and pronounced her 'sure’ like 'shore’, which was weird to hear in Texas of all places, according to Katie.

“Yes. I'm sure. I get that a lot. I’ve just… been through some stuff.”

“I’ll say. Well, you come with and we'll get ya sta'ted. Ya look like a fast learna, I’m sure you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Lance was working at a florist's place down the street, another friend's business. He loved the bright colors and smells and he looked happy there, which made _Shiro_ happy.

“Have a good day at work”, he texted, and Lance replied “you too!” just before Shiro got reprimanded for using his phone during working hours.

“Emergencies ONLY.” He was told.

Shiro had no choice but to follow the rules of the shop, lest he be fired; family friend or not.

So now their lives were about working and going home. Hours were decent, but it meant they were a lot more tired and saw each other less, which was a bit of a change up from the spending most of their time in the house where it wasn't hard to see each other. Now they just plain _couldn’t_ , not until they were off.

 

The first day home, Lance said, “I don't like working.” To which Shiro replied, “I think it's alright? What's your boss like?”

“Weird. She likes to go on and on about herbal remedies and the language of flowers. A coworker says she's like, a hippie lady? She’s nice, at least. It just feels boring. What about yours?”

“She's a tough lady with a Boston accent. She doesn't take shit from anyone and she actually fired someone today. It was a little terrifying.”

“Just a little?” Lance smiled.

“Just a little.”

Lance got up and wrapped his arms around Shiro's neck, “Well, welcome home, Mr. Barista.” Lance kissed him. “You smell like coffee beans.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Shiro kissed him again, smiling into it.

They spent the rest of the night having dinner and watching a bit of tv before they needed to call it a night.

And so it went, day after day.

  


* * *

  


**Day 106**

Eventually Shiro learned he could take Lance a coffee sometimes during his break, if he wanted to. (He did.)

He made up one of their seasonal blends and started down the street towards _Louanne’s Floristry_.

Inside he could see a lady, borderline old, in a long, multicolored skirt point to a purple flower. Lance looked like he was considering whatever she was saying about it, nodding in his little _Louanne’s Floristry_ apron. It was cute on him, but it hid most of his leg, and _that_ was a tragedy. They went on for days and now they were eclipsed.

Shiro could see his eyes glimmer with something.

He opened the door and went inside, a bell chiming above him.

“Shiro!”

Louanne looked at him, her thick glasses making her eyes look huge. “Shiro like _the_ Shiro?”

Lance nodded.

“Oh! Pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard quite a bit, as you can imagine. The boy is quite a talker.”

Shiro blushed. “That he is. Sometimes I can't get him to shut up.”

“Hey!” Lance slapped Shiro's arm.

“That does seem to be the common ordeal with him, yes.”

“Double hey!” He didn't look too seriously offended by the comments, so Shiro laughed.

“Well, I won't waste time, I’m sure your break is short if it's coming from Amelia.” She leaned down towards Lance and stage-whispered, “Boyfriend or not, try to land a sale, honey!” And then danced away to the sound of what Shiro could only figure was the Earth itself.

“Well, she’s definitely a bit weird. And not subtle at all.”

“Yeah, but like I said, she’s nice. She knows your boss too!”

“They’re all friends, Lance, of course she does. But wow, she’s got you pegged and it’s only been a couple weeks.”

Lance looked away. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly hard to get to know.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but sure.” Then he remembered. “Coffee?”

Lance took it with a blushy smile and sipped it. It was quiet for a moment and then Lance lit up with realization. “Oh!” He pointed to the same flower Louanne had earlier. “Louanne said this flower is Rose of Sharon! If you give it to someone it means you're consumed with love for them. Neat, huh?” Lance's face was crazy red, despite his casual tone.

Yeah, neat. Shiro smiled.

“Really? A flower can mean that?”

“Yeah! It’s this whole thing — I mentioned it before! Flowers are weird, but humans use them to translate all kinds of emotions and feelings n’ shit. Longing, sadness, hope, friendship… temptation.” Lance looked at him at with this expression that begged Shiro to read into what he’d said, but he didn’t have to. Shiro picked up on the slight smell of arousal.

He didn’t comment on that, though, because he was afraid to breach the topic of sex in a flower shop. Instead he nodded, winked, and opted instead for, “Friendship is an emotion?”

Lance understood. “ _No_ , obviously it’s a _feeling_ , dummy!” He pushed him a bit.

“Lance, can you come here?” Louanne called from behind the counter.

He whipped around, “Oh! Uh, yeah!” Lance ran off to help her and Shiro took the time alone to look at the flowers.

Shiro had seen flowers before, but never so many of all different kinds in one place. It was fascinating and they made the shop smell really good, albeit kind of like leaves and dirt. Still, not unpleasant.

“Okay!” Lance reappeared beside him. “Your break is almost over, huh?”

Shiro glanced at his watch. “Oh, I guess so. I should go, then. I still need to walk back.”

“Yeah… But wait!” Lance made his way over to some other type of purple flower and plucked one out. “Here, take this. It’ll come out my paycheck, but whatever. It’s still technically a sale.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“A purple pansy.” His eyes glittered.

Shiro’s heart sped up. “What does it mean?”

Lance blushed and shook his head. “Just look it up on your phone! Now go! Shoo! Bad Shiro. Go make coffee.” 

Shiro was ushered out, pansy in hand, now forced to head back to work again. 

He pulled out his phone.

 

Purple pansy meant “you occupy my thoughts.”

  


* * *

  


When they got home that day, they didn't immediately jump into any hot and heavy throes of passion. Actually, it felt like any other day, save for the fact that Shiro acknowledged the elephant in the room, but didn't say anything about it.

They ate dinner. Drank tea.

Lance was anxious, Shiro could smell it.

They watched a movie.

As the credits started rolling, Shiro took it as an opportunity to initiate some kind of conversation. 

“Sooo—”

He was quickly cut off by Lance blurting out, “I don't want to have sex!”

Shiro looked at him, wide-eyed. “You don't?”

Lance flubbered for a minute. “That's not what I meant. What I meant was, not right now. Like, I don't know. I'm… not exactly the most gung ho about letting people see me naked. It's…”

“Lance, I’ve sort of already seen you naked?”

“Okay, true, but that time didn't count because I was gross and we were definitely not going to have sex there. It just feels different in my head, y’know?” He looked as anxious as he smelled.

Shiro let a hand rest comfortingly on his thigh. “I get it, it's okay. Do you have any idea how you want to work up to it?”

Lance smiled, sneaky-like and his eyes glittered. “I was thinking we could just walk around without shirts and pants sometimes. We’ll make it super casual and then it’ll be like, 'Hey, Lance, take off your underwear, you tall glass of caramel iced coffee’ and then I'll just whip ‘em off and we'll go hot sausage on each other.” He seemed satisfied with his answer.

“Okay, that could work, _but_ ,” Shiro raised a finger at him, “I will never call you a 'tall glass of caramel iced coffee’ and please never refer to sex as 'going hot sausage’ ever again.”

“No promises. Also, you should _totally_ call me a tall glass of caramel iced coffee. Doesn't it sound delicious?”

“Yes but just… No. No.”

Lance poked him. “Boooring. You’re boring. How does it feel to be a party pooper?”

The credit music faded out and then the movie was back to the title screen.

“Better than being a heathen.” Shiro pushed him playfully.

“Says you.” Lance pushed him back, harder. Shiro let himself rock to the side and then back into place with a smile.

“Yeah, says me.” Shiro pushed him again, harder than he’d meant to, and sent Lance falling backwards and himself forward. Lance caught himself and Shiro did the same, hands gripping tight to the back of the couch and the front edge of the cushion.

They stared into each other's eyes, shock and sexual tension meeting in the middle during that moment.

Lance opened his mouth. He closed it. Finally he said, “I just realized you don't have to be naked for sex.”

Their lips met.

Shiro shifted his support to his knees and held Lance's face in his hands, kissing him feverishly, desperate.

“Back, up.”

Shiro pulled himself away and leaned back. Lance picked himself up and crawled into his lap, his arms wrapping around Shiro's neck and their lips connecting again.

Lance rolled his hips forward so his clothed cock met Shiro's own and the older teen gasped, breaking the kiss. “Fuck, (Lance).”

“Shiro, Shiro, _Shiro_.”

The pungent smell of Lance's arousal permeated the air and had Shiro twice as horny as before.

“How do you smell so _good_? You’re only human,” kiss, “it's not fair,” kiss, “but I can't get enough of you,” the prince kept rolling his hips so Shiro could thrust up to meet him, keeping the friction constant.

Jeans were frustrating but somehow that made it better.

“What about you?” Lance was kissing his neck, nipping, biting and sucking, which freed up Shiro to speak. “You walk around with your scent betraying everything you feel. Do you like it when I know how horny you are? Is this what you wanted this whole time? To hump me like a bitch in heat?”

He could feel Lance nod and hear his moan. “I do, I did. Wanted you for so long,” Lance kisses his neck again, “I love you so much I don't know what to do with myself half the time.”

Shiro was getting close, his heart pounding in his ears and his breathing was ragged because somehow, he kept forgetting to breathe. Lance sounded even better than he’d ever fantasized and it had his hormones in a frenzy.

Shiro bucked up into him, grip on Lance's hips so tight he was sure they’d bruise, which both broke his heart and filled him with a pleasured rush. It was like instinct had awakened in his body and suddenly, he wanted the world to know Lance was _his_ , and Lance, with his bruises, would know too. Would know that Shiro had the potential to fuck him _good_ , and that he was worth claiming.

He was not sure if this was normal.

What happened next very much was, though.

Lance's hips stuttered and with a final brush, he came in his pants with a cry. The sound stoked something in Shiro's gut and not long after, he was coming too, slumping against the back of the couch, grip slack.

It felt natural for them to break apart now, but Shiro didn't want to lose contact with Lance, and he was thankful when Lance slumped forward onto him.

The title screen played that awful music clip over and over again and Shiro decided he was tired of the dramatics, grabbing for the remote to flick it off. 

Then it was deep silence and the sounds of breath being caught. At least, until Lance opened his mouth. 

“Aside from the fact that jizzing in your pants is really gross, that was fantastic. Like, really really I’d-do-it-again-even-though-it’s-gross fantastic.” He pressed his forehead to Shiro's and looked him in the eyes. He had this cute, blissful smile on his face and Shiro thought he'd go into cardiac arrest.

Lance's purple pupils were blown wide, and he’d just realized that the marks under Lance's eyes had lit up, but now the light was starting to dull. Did that have to do with his orgasm? 

It was almost hard to look at, like Shiro physically couldn't handle being this in love with him.

“I — me too.”

Lance looked at him blankly for a few seconds before a loud laugh rang out.

Pure happiness filled the room and the previous tension seeped out.

It wasn't his most eloquent response to date, but Shiro couldn't be bothered to wonder if it had really been that funny, because Lance was enjoying himself. Really and truly, in this moment, he was happy, and Shiro could feel it. It was _because_ of Shiro.

His head rushed with endorphins and his heart _soared_.

Lance's laughter died out calmly and Shiro said, “I love you, Lance. I'm _in_ love with you.”

Lance's smile faded into something more shocked and then serious; all of his love spread out on his face like a map for Shiro to read and memorize.

The eyebrows pulled together in humble happiness, the blush raging across his cheeks like a flame cared for by Hestia herself — endless; his eyes glimmering with love and a sort of sadness Shiro didn't totally understand, and finally, his lips, which said, “I’m in love with you too.”

They shared a chaste kiss, and Shiro decided this was the second best date worth remembering on Earth.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haha wow thats a lot of death

**5 months, 2 weeks**

One of the worst things in the world is realizing you're not prepared for the things you know you should be, like when you know you should bring your earphones with you because you _might_ end up listening to music but decide _nah,_ you're not going to need them, only to find yourself needing them later.

This was how Shiro felt when he and Lance were held at knifepoint one night after a dinner date.

The man looked deranged, like he was zoning in and out of focus. He was only threatening because of his obvious instability — disheveled appearance, overgrown messy hair and bad hygiene. He didn't need much else though.

Unstable people could flip like a switch — angry in an instant — desperate enough to not have anything to lose.

Shiro had seen it before.

Still, though, he was mentally kicking himself.

An idiot. That's what he was.

He’d let his guard down on Earth. He didn't have a weapon. His prince was in danger and it felt like it was all his fault.

“Gimme yer money.”

They had paused completely. Unmoving. Unreactive.

“ _NOW._ ”

His anger and commanding voice struck a chord deep inside of Shiro. It reminded him that he _was_ a weapon. He didn’t need one. And he kicked upwards, easily disarming his enemy, sweeping him off his feet in what felt like an instant. 

His reaction time was slow and the man ended up slamming his elbows — along with his face — into the gravel below them.

He groaned and Shiro stepped over him.

“Shiro, no!”

He had knelt to pick up the knife, but he looked up at Lance.

“Lance, he attacked us.”

“I know but — but _killing_?”

Shiro winced. “Do you not already know?”

“Know what?”

“This wouldn't be the first time.” Of course he didn’t know. Shiro hadn’t told him everything about the ship, had avoided really mentioning that he'd killed at any point on it, and he hadn’t been around when Shiro had killed on duty either. He was always ushered off. Protected from the truth.

Lance's eyes widened. “You've killed before?”

Shiro's jaw tightened. “Lance, I _had_ to. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't. _You_ wouldn't be here if I hadn't.”

The man rolled over on the ground. He was bleeding now, and he smirked.

“You don't have to this time," Lance pleaded.

“Mmmm.” He’d propped himself up against the wall. “Nice ass, baby boy. Ya wanna get fucked by a _real_ man?” He was very obviously eyeing Lance.

Lance's hands clenched at his sides at the same time that Shiro's closed around the knife.

“Did what he just said change your mind?”

“No.”

“He's not a good man, Lance. What if he does this to someone else? Or if he's done it before?”

Lance looked conflicted. “You can't just kill him though… It’s…”

Shiro felt guilt flood his stomach. Was he manipulating Lance into letting him kill someone?

He picked up the knife and broke it in his metal hand. “You're right.”

Shiro wanted to say something to the guy. Threaten him so he wouldn't hurt anyone else. But not in front of Lance. He couldn't.

He walked away and Lance followed close behind.

  


* * *

  


That night Lance was laying next to him in bed after an awkward walk home.

“If I hadn't been there, would you have killed him?”

“I don't know,” he answered honestly.

His main priority had been protecting Lance, mainly, and everyone else second. If Lance hadn't been there, he might have just dealt his damage and left; disarmed, disabled and walked away. 

But with Lance there, with the threat and the cat calling… it'd made Shiro _want_ to kill him.

“I don't enjoy it. I want you to know that much. I'm just numb to it. It's been something I've had to do since I was younger.”

“That's good. That you don't enjoy it.”

It got quiet, the way it usually did in situations like this.

“When was the first time?” Lance asked.

Shiro took in a breath, and it came out shaky. “When I was eight. I had to prove my loyalty or they would have killed me. I looked at my parents and they just nodded. We hated it, but when we had to, we put family first.”

It took him a long time to get over. His parents had to reassure him tons that he wasn't a bad person unless he enjoyed the kill. And eventually… it wasn't so bad. But he definitely wasn't the same.

“I'm sorry. But… Thank you for not killing him.”

Shiro didn't say 'you’re welcome’.

He didn't say that if it happened again, he'd kill the man without hesitation either.

  


* * *

  
**6 months, 5 days**

When they put Lance's _Let's Work Towards Getting Naked_ plan into action, Shiro realized just how thirsty he really was.

Flavor of the day dictated whether Shiro was going to have a morning full of smooth tan panes and pert brown nipples or if he was gonna hurt his neck looking down to admire Lance's endless legs and tight ass.

Shiro bit his lip as he saw Lance come out of the room in his boxers and a white T-shirt. 

In his royal garments, you couldn't really tell what kind of leg Lance had going on because many of his outfits were more free-flowing with capes and all. But now all he could see was finely sculpted tan legs. His thighs were just thick enough that Shiro wanted to grab onto them and really _feel_ them. His shapely calves led down to delicate looking ankles and cute little feet, which, “cute little feet” felt like something you say about babies and pets, not your boyfriend, but they _are_ cute feet.

And at the peak of it all was the _gluteus maximus_. Hidden by boxers tight enough to to leave little to the imagination.

He wanted to grab it. He wanted those legs wrapped around his waist. He wanted his thumb brushing over one of Lance's nipples and another fisted around his cock.

He wanted his lips Lance’s neck, he wanted to suck hickies into his skin and whisper dirty shit into his ear.

He was a mess.

Lance slammed down the box of fruity pebbles, the cereal rattling inside the box.

“Look, I know we’re working up to something here, but can you please just do something about all of your horny energy? I’m really not in the mood. Go jog or jerk it in the shower or something.” His words were biting and he was _really_ angry.

“Lance—”

He turned and Shiro could see the stressed, angry look on his face. “I’m fine, Shiro. I’m just pissed and I don’t know why and I’m sorry but please just get out, okay? I wanna be alone and I can’t take the milk to my bedroom.” His words weren’t any softer than before.

Shiro stood up from the table. “Are you going to work?”

“No, I’m calling in sick.”

He nodded. “Okay.” 

He’d already jogged, but he could jog again.

  


* * *

  


The angry Lance didn’t really go away. He stayed for days.

It was days of slamming things, kicking and punching whatever frustrated him, snapping at Shiro over minor things he usually wouldn’t and avoiding being touched.

Shiro had tried to reach out to him, tried to touch his hand, and Lance had pulled away entirely, looking very obviously offended.

“Sorry.”

The only response he got was a heavy, irritated sigh before Lance got up off the couch. The moment was punctuated by the slam of Lance’s bedroom door.

Shiro sighed and settled back into the couch.

  


* * *

  


As he found out, the anger was a temporary high, forceful and unpleasant, but only made worse by the fact that Lance crashed. And he crashed _hard._

Shiro came back from work to the sound of slamming cabinet doors. “They couldn’t do it! Stupid, useless guards! What’s the point of them if they can’t even fight off the Galra?! They couldn’t do it and now everyone’s _dead!_ ” He slammed a door and Shiro raised an eyebrow. This was new. He’d never monologued before.

“They couldn’t do it.” But this one didn’t sound as harsh. “They couldn’t do it, oh God, they _couldn’t do it._ ”

He was obviously about to cry, so Shiro finally made his way into the kitchen. Lance was on the floor, leaning against the cabinets below the sink with his face pressed into the wood.

A tear hit his pants and dampened the material.

Shiro kept his distance — didn’t say anything. Lance might not him there, but he’d know he was and if he wanted him, he could tell him as much or he could send his boyfriend away. It was whatever Lance wanted, or needed.

“Shiro I'm... I'm blaming dead people for dying. I’m such an asshole! I’m the worst prince in," he gasped in a breath of air, "Altean history.” He was sobbing and his sobs broke Shiro’s heart. After he said it though, he settled against the wood of the cabinet and the tension from the gasping seemed like it'd sort of left.

He got down on his knees and pulled Lance into his lap, the prince’s arms wrapping around him easily. Shiro ran his hand smoothly down the back of Lance’s head and down his back, trying to soothingly pet him.

“Sh sh sh, you’re not the worst. The defense wasn’t good enough — anyone would be angry about that. The planet was destroyed because of it, so you’re right. So many people you knew and loved died and then they sent you away. You’re on Earth suffering with the aftermath, it’s valid for you to be hurt and angry and no one has the right to tell you otherwise, okay? I understand, though… There’s not much the guards could do. The Galra were too much. But when all is said and done, they Galra are really to blame. They launched the attack in the first place.”

He felt Lance nod against his neck, but he kept sobbing, and Shiro held him. His own eyes got misty, but he didn’t cry. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all coming to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sO after school ended, i found out i failed BOTH semesters of physics, had a bad bought of depression and spent a few weeks making up the first semester in summer school while also avoiding typing this up. in the meantime, ive started 3 whole fics!! (some of which might make it to AO3 sooner than others)
> 
> basically, life punched me square in the fucking cock, but ive finally got something to show for all the work??
> 
> part of the time was because i wanted to write another smut scene for this chapter, but i've sort of lost motivation, so the ending took a different turn than was planned (there was gonna be some fighting the galra and loss of body parts, it woulda been cool, but im lazy and unmotivated now) and it wrapped up a lot sooner than it would have, but enjoy the ending, guys!

**6 months, 6 days**

On a jog one afternoon, Shiro saw Keith with a guy. A _big_ guy. They looked, well, “tender” was the only word that came to mind.

From the distance, it looked like they were talking. The guy he was with got up to leave, and so they hugged, but it was weirdly long and as Shiro jogged a bit closer, following his usual path, he could make out a soft expression on Keith’s face.

They pulled apart after a few more seconds and then the guy turned to leave.

Keith stuck around, though, falling back onto the bench behind him.

Shiro jogged over.

“Keith?”

Keith jumped. “Shiro??”

Shiro smiled at his reaction. “You mind if I sit with you?” Keith shook his head, and Shiro sat down next to him.

“Was that your boyfriend?” 

Keith stiffened. “No… he was just a friend. Hunk.”

“Oh.” Shiro might not have guessed they weren't dating. Did Keith like him? _No,_ he shouldn’t assume.

“Yeah.”

Ah, screw it. “Well, do you like him? What is it they say? Like-like? Do you like-like him?”

Keith blushed and looked away. “Stop.” Even his ears were red.

“Right, right, sorry. I shouldn't assume you like him just because you guys hugged each other for a long time or something. You're just good friends. That's fine. Doesn't have to be any more, doesn’t have to be any less.”

Keith looked back, hesitant, eyes big and hopeful. “We hugged for a long time?”

“Mhm. And you had a look on your face. It was kind of similar to how Lance looks at me, or how your dad looks at your mom. That's why I asked. Sorry if it sounded like I was teasing you. It was actually a legitimate question.” Okay, not totally true. He was teasing at least a little bit.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don't be. It's fine.”

Sitting down, Shiro got a chance to soak up the beauty of his surroundings. Tall trees, the fact that the leaves were changing colors and falling from their branches. He’d have to ask about that. Birds were making noises in the trees, despite often being drowned out by the sounds of traffic not too far away from them. The breeze was nice, and it tousled Shiro's bangs.

“I do, actually.”

So he did.

“How long have you liked him?”

“Awhile. A few months, I guess. I don't know. I don't really think about stuff like that a lot. I kind of just realized one day and when I thought about it, I realized I had for longer than I thought.”

Hm. He and Keith were more similar than he realized. “I get that. That's how I was with Lance. It was different, since he was a prince and all, but I didn't realize I liked him until I thought about how ridiculous it was for a prince to flirt with his guard. Like, what did he expect to come out of it? He was supposed to marry some other royalty. Then it kind of hit me, 'What if he's serious about this? What if something did come from it?’ I couldn’t do my job after that, and I had to request reassignment for a while to get my feelings under control. When I did, I just sort of rolled my eyes at his flirting, trying to convince myself he was just being _Lance_ , and that it wasn’t serious, but sometimes my heart would beat faster. I actually sort of hated it.”

Keith was looking at him. “So, you tried to avoid him?”

“Yeah… It didn't really work because Lance hunted me down not long after. He was crying and he told me I was ‘to report to my station immediately’, and after that I was never allowed to leave. Sometimes I think he might have let me go if I'd made a big deal about not liking it there, but I never complained.”

“I did that… I tried to avoid Hunk when I first realized, and he gave me space for awhile, but then he texted me and told me he missed me. Asked me if he did something wrong. He didn't. It was all me… but I didn't tell him that. I just said he didn't and that we could go somewhere, if he wanted, and now we're back to how we were before.”

“How does that make you feel?” Shiro was interested in knowing. The parallels between the two of them were a bit uncanny.

“Sad?” He shook his head. “Uncomfortable. Like I'm keeping some huge secret, or taking advantage of him. He's a really nice guy, he probably wouldn't even realize if I was… He really likes hugs, and I like his hugs. But it feels wrong.”

Okay, _fuck_. This was starting to get a little bit uncomfortable.

Shiro decided to take a leap of faith.

“Okay,” he shifted so he faced more towards Keith, “I don't know Hunk at all, but from what you've said, he sounds and looks like a big teddy bear.” He could back out. He could _not_ say what he’s about to say. But he kept going anyway. “You… you should tell him how you feel. This might sound weird, but you're a lot like me. It's a little freaky. Just… trust him. That might be hard, but you have to.”

Shiro’s hand clenched into a fist near his thigh. He was way too emotional about this. What was he? Keith’s dad? No way. Keith was _Lance’s_ age, and Shiro was only two years older than Lance. He just felt deep inside himself that he needed to say this. He didn’t want Keith to feel all the shit he’d felt for so long.

“Trust isn’t easy, I know. I was afraid of ruining our friendship, I felt like I was taking advantage of him when we were close and I know I can't guarantee you'll have a happy ending like we did, but I want to believe that Hunk won't just leave you.” He looked at Keith, probably very obviously pleading with him. “I’ve been where you are, and it sucks a lot.”

Keith looked at him with watery eyes, but he didn't say anything.

Shiro looked away.

“You talk a lot.”

He laughed. “Too much?”

“Definitely.”

“Sorry about that.”

He could see Keith shrug out of his peripheral vision. “It's fine. It… it was convincing. I might actually tell him? But not right away.”

Shiro could respect that. It’d probably be hypocritical of him if he didn’t, actually, since it took him months to confess.

Shiro sighed and let his head fall back, the gentle breeze cooling him and calming him down.

Keith’s phone vibrated. “Oh. I have to go home now, Mom wants my help with dinner. Bye, Shiro.”

He raised a hand. “Bye, Keith! Good luck with dinner! Tell everyone I said hi!”

“Okay!”

Keith left and Shiro allowed himself to just sit on the bench and take in all of the openness of the park, despite the busy city sounds going on around him. Somehow, it was a satisfying contrast.

Cars zooming past, the occasional honk of a horn, the leaves blowing around, the chill of night settling in as the sun started setting.

When he was satisfied, Shiro got up.

Only, out of the corner of his eye, he _swore_ he saw a flash of purple.

He looked around, eyes searching, but he couldn’t find anything else to suggest he’d seen what he thought he saw.

Still, he wasn’t brushing this off.

Better to be safe than sorry.

  


* * *

  


Back at the apartment, Lance was still dealing with the crash.

He hadn't gone to work and had spent hours watching Glee on Netflix, face shoved into the arm of their couch.

He looked almost dead inside. He certainly _acted_ like he was dead inside.

Quiet, barely eating, low energy, sleeping tons.

He was obviously depressed, and Shiro wasn’t really sure how to help with that. He could give reassurance and physical comfort, but ultimately, he only knew how to do so much. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to do anything, but when asked if he wanted to take a walk with Shiro, Lance had politely declined and started the next episode of Glee.

Shiro let him be.

Eventually, the distance got old and Lance turned to affection.

He’d nest his head on Shiro’s shoulder or lap, or even just plain lay across him entirely. He spent a good majority of his time somehow in contact with Shiro, which Shiro wasn’t really complaining about, but that was a little concerning too.

And at some point, it reached its peak.

They were getting ready for bed, Shiro already laying down and Lance taking a bit longer than usual, and that’s when it happened.

Lance crawled in beside him, only, instead of settling in under the covers, he straddled Shiro’s hips and looked down at him.

“I wanna fuck you.”

Shiro felt his eyes widen and eyebrows raise with surprise.

There were a lot of things wrong with this.

For one thing, Lance wasn’t around in the slightest, and he wasn’t blushing either, despite what he’d just said.

His expression was… mainly just blank. Pained with an edge of determined, if he looked hard enough.

Shiro pushed himself up so his back was supported by the pillows behind him. “Lance,” he pushed his boyfriend back, gently, by the chest, “normally I’d be all for it—would prefer it that way, even, but I think you should wait. _We_ should wait. You don’t really want this.”

Lance’s eyebrows creased and he leaned in, stronger than Shiro’s gentle push. “Yes I do.”

Shiro didn’t bother to push him back again. “No, you really don’t.”

Angry, Lance pushed him into the pillows. “I do! _You_ don’t know what I want, Shiro!”

Shiro tried to remind himself that this was the hurt speaking. This was the loss and the depression and the frustration of all of it pushing him like this.

Soft, he replied, “I do. I really do.” Because he _did_. “You want this in the grand scheme of things, but not right now. Right now you just want the hurt to go away, but this isn’t going to—” Lance cut him off with a forceful kiss and pulled away.

Shiro persisted, “ _This isn’t going to fix it, Lance_.”

But just as the tears started welling up in his eyes, Lance tried again, kissing Shiro hard, repeatedly and frantic, until finally he pulled away and sobbed.

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this, I’m sorry.” He wiped away his tears, watery blue irises peeking through when his hands moved away to wipe off the tears. He started to move off, but Shiro pulled him back—close—so that their chests met.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I know you’re sorry, but you don’t have to be. You’re trying your best, sweetie.” He kissed where he could reach—Lance’s cheeks, chin, his collar bones and chest—trying to sprinkle out his affection and understanding while Lance sobbed above him. Shiro held him close, but it didn’t feel like enough.

He couldn’t keep track of the time, didn’t really want to, since it wasn’t his priority, but Lance had to have cried for a good 30 minutes, at least.

When he settled down, though, Shiro skillfully switched their positions.

Lance’s eyes were red and half-lidded with exhaustion, a few more stray tears sliding down his cheeks, and Shiro wiped them away.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Lance took in a shaky breath and let it out.

“I don’t know.”

Shiro knew what it was like to not know what was wrong, but he pressed on. “Are you sure you don’t know?”

Lance shrugged. “I’m tired. I’m tired of being angry and feeling empty—like I don’t have a direction anymore.”

Shiro closed his eyes He wasn’t really sure how to respond, so he tossed up a few quick responses and went with, “You lost yours when you lost your future on Altea. I did too… that’s part of what bothers me about Earth, but… you can find a new one. You can find a new purpose here. You have so much to live for, so much you could do.”

Lance brought a fist down onto the mattress next to him, tears starting up again. “But I don’t _want_ to do anything on Earth! I _hate_ Earth! I hate the humans here! I hate all of it!” He slapped a hand to his face, covering most of it, and his other hand sneaked up to join it.

Shiro gently—and then firmly, once met with resistance—pulled Lance’s hands away from his face. The prince stubbornly looked away, eyebrows furrowed and head turned.

Shiro guided his head back so that Lance looked at him again. “Earth sucks. I know. I don’t like it either.”

The smell of Lance’s anger spiked.

“ _But_... name one thing about Earth that you like.”

“I hate all of it.” But he’d diverted his gaze again.

“No you don’t. Think, Lance.”

He was tense with negativity, but eventually he said, “Flowers,” and loosened up a bit.

Shiro kissed his forehead. “Name another.”

“Mexican food…” 

Shiro kissed him again. “More.”

Each thing he listed off was punctuated by a kiss—cats, dogs, coffee, the smell in the air after it and when the grass is cut; swimming and ice cream and _Shiro_.

That earned him the longest kiss yet, right on the lips, and Shiro sneakily started to tickle Lance’s shirtless sides, earning a loud, startled noise.

Shiro smiled wide as his teary-eyed boyfriend smacked his arm and yelled, “Shiro!”

Shiro let his eyes fall closed and he sighed. “I love you so much.” He could feel Lance’s breath hitch beneath him, “I love you too…” This time, Lance kissed _his_ forehead. “Thank you. I feel… a lot better. I needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” He was satisfied seeing Lance feel better. “You still wanna have sex?”

Lance laughed. “Not right now, but yes. I’m just really fucking tired after all of that crying.”

“Mmm, I can imagine. You look tired.”

Yeah? Damn, I must really be pooped then.

Shiro rolled off and pulled the covers over himself, wrapping an arm around Lance before he really settled in.

“I still don’t want to stay here forever, though. I wanna take our ship and leave. Being here makes me restless and depressed. I want to go to other planets and fight people and maybe do illegal things. That’d be cool, right? Would you still love me if I could pick a pocket and punch a Galra in the face with my bare fist?”

Shiro considered this and snorted a bit. “Depends. Would you still love me if I constantly had a boner over how hot you are when you’re punching Galra in the face? Because that could be a problem for our missions.”

Lance rolled onto his back with a smile. “Oh don’t worry, I can _totally_ help with boners.”

Shiro laughed. “Then definitely. I should probably be more opposed to aiding the heir to the throne of Altea, on his path to becoming a universe-wide bandit, but nope. I’m mostly concerned about how _I’m_ supposed to punch people when I’m hard. This is what you’ve done to me. You should be ashamed.”

“Oh, no way. If anything the fact that you might get a boner over me punching a bad guy only makes me want to punch a bad guy _even more_.”

“It’s dangerous to punch bad guys, though. They punch back.”

“Yeah, and I’ll punch ‘em again. That’s how fights work, Shiro. You should know.”

“I know.”

“Would I look hot with a split lip? Like, on a scale of 1-10 how hot would I look with blood on my face?”

Shiro made a ‘hmm’ sound low in his throat. “Twelve. But in all seriousness, I don’t want to see you getting hurt…”

“I know, big guy.”

“You’ve just been going through the stages of grief and I’ve felt my heart almost break a good three times or something, how am I supposed to cope if someone stabs you?” Shiro craned his neck forward kiss at Lance’s neck.

“Shit, do you think someone would actually stab me?”

“Honestly? Yeah. You kind of run your mouth a lot. There’d be a lot of reasons to want to stab you after that, never mind the fact that just by existing you’re in danger. You know, you’re still a prince.”

“Damn. Guess I gotta work on not getting stabbed then.”

Shiro rested his head close to Lance’s and lowered his voice. “Are you serious about flying around and fighting the Galra?”

Lance turned his head so his was closer to Shiro’s. “Yeah? I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t like it here. There are good things, but overall I just really don’t want to be here anymore. Sucks.”

“Mm.”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“Mm.”

“ _Shiro_.”

Shiro turned his head just a little to kiss Lance’s jawline. “Go to sleep, Lance. You’re gonna need it if we’re supposed to be packing up for space.”

Lance jolted, “Wait, you mean that?!”

Shiro didn’t answer, already asleep, and Lance groaned. “Goddamnit. _I_ was the one who cried! Why are _you_ so tired?”

But there was no answer for him, and he did his best to settle down, letting his eyes fall closed and nose inhaling Shiro’s familiar scent.

Another chapter. Another chapter of their lives.

Lance was excited, and so, so in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me for this! all of your comments were super great and im glad so many people enjoyed my fic
> 
> as always, you can find me on twitter at [@dogmemes420](https://twitter.com/dogmemes420)! feel free to hmu on cc or in my dms or somethin, idk. when in doubt, heith & shance are the way to go!


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